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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26651704">Counting Stars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theilliterateironman/pseuds/theilliterateironman'>theilliterateironman</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds, Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Humor, Platonic Relationships, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:13:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>110,211</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26651704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theilliterateironman/pseuds/theilliterateironman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When the BAU gets a new employee in the form of eighteen-year-old Florence Sabin, the team is thrown for quite a loop. They certainly don't know what to make of the expert hacker-turned-technical analysts, but they do know she certainly makes their lives more entertaining.</p><p>[starts s3]<br/>[eventual ofc/omc]<br/>[cross-posted to wattpad: theilliterateironman]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aaron Hotchner &amp; Original Female Character(s), David Rossi &amp; Original Female Character(s), Derek Morgan &amp; Original Female Character(s), Emily Prentiss &amp; Original Female Character(s), Jennifer "JJ" Jareau &amp; Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Penelope Garcia &amp; Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid &amp; Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>109</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>168</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. HACKER</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>"that's kind of sexists to automatically assume it was a guy"</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>Penelope Garcia didn't like to admit it out loud, but there were some days where the cases she worked were too much. Not emotionally — that's a whole other conversation — but physically. She'd get off the phone with one of the team members and have a long list of information to uncover and data to analyze. Going through the list took time, and unfortunately in the cases they work, time wasn't a luxury.</p>
<p>Enter Florence Sabin.</p>
<p>Garcia was skeptical when she had been called into the Director of the FBI's office — who wouldn't be when Erin Strauss and a teenage girl with handcuffs on her wrist were also in the room. It was certainly a meeting she would never forget.</p>
<p>"Agent Garcia, have a seat," Director Wray instructed. He glanced at the unnamed girl, who was staring down at her chipping nail polish, looking almost bored. "Do you recall the incident with the Pentagon that we requested your help with a few months ago?"</p>
<p>"Y-yes, Director. The hacker didn't leave behind any kind of trail to find him or figure out what files he got into."</p>
<p>"That's kind of sexist to automatically assume it was a guy," the girl spoke up.</p>
<p>Garcia did her best to hide the smile she so badly wanted to flash. Instead, she nervously looked between the girl and the Director. "Is this the hacker? How'd you find her?"</p>
<p>"She turned herself in," Strauss informed her, looking displeased. "Miss Sabin did so by hacking into the CIA's database and leaving a note explaining who she was and how she did it, along with instructions on how to fix the fault in security."</p>
<p>"That explains the handcuffs," Garcia muttered to herself. "Well, then am I right to assume you've given her the same option as me when I was hired; prison or a job?"</p>
<p>Strauss nodded. "We're in the process of finding where to place her. Tell me, Agent Garcia, are you in need of any assistance in the BAU?"</p>
<p>Garcia paused for a moment, looking over the girl who used her cuffed hands to push a stray hair behind her ear. She reminded her of how she got her start in the Bureau. "Not every case, but yes for some. I've managed so far. However—" Garcia cut herself off, not wanting to overstep.</p>
<p>"What?" Director Wray asked, nodding for her to continue.</p>
<p>"What's your name?" Garcia asked her.</p>
<p>"Florence, but my friends call me Ren," she replied.</p>
<p>"Sir, Florence is easily one of the best hackers I have ever seen. I hated to admit that she was better than me all those months ago. I'm not saying the work the BAU does isn't important, but she could easily work in a higher position."</p>
<p>"They don't trust me in a higher position," Florence said, chuckling. "Not allowed anywhere near National Defense or any form of Cybersecurity."</p>
<p>"Garcia, do you think you could utilize Miss Sabin’s talents in the BAU?" Strauss asked, rolling her eyes at Florence.</p>
<p>"I have one question. Why'd you decide to break into the CIA database?"</p>
<p>Florence shrugged sheepishly. "Had to make sure John Mulaney didn't kill Princess Diana."</p>
<p>Garcia snickered which earned a disapproving look from Strauss. "Director Wray, I would be delighted to have her."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. FLORENCE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>"bought a two for twenty from applebee's and ate both entrees. great day"</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek Morgan was enjoying one of the rare times when he neither had a case to work nor did he have paperwork to fill out. He had his morning cup of coffee in hand and sauntered over to Spencer Reid's desk to try and get on his nerves. It was working for the most part as he picked apart his nonexistent love life. Reid would've much rather been focusing on the paperwork he had to finish or telling JJ about a new scientific principle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both men heard the awkward shuffling of feet and looked towards the door. They spotted a young girl who had to be in her late teens or early twenties. Her age aside, she certainly didn't look or act like she belonged in a federal building.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While everyone else in the room was wearing some form of a suit or other business formal attire, she was dressed in a yellow t-shirt tucked into jeans and white tennis shoes that had seen cleaner days. Around her left ankle were two bracelets woven out of string — one was different shades of pink and the other the colors of the rainbow. They looked like something that might have been made at a summer camp. The bottom half of her otherwise brown hair was dyed pink and pulled back in a ponytail. Instead of a purse or briefcase, she had a pink backpack with several enamel pins covering the surface. Reid thought he could see a Starfleet Insignia pin, but she shifted and he couldn't get a better look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite not being dressed like an employee, there was a freshly printed ID badge clipped to her belt loop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl's eyes quickly scanned over the office, clearly looking for someone. When she didn't find the person, she bit her lip nervously. After readjusting her backpack, she backed up against a wall to lean on it and wait for someone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you know who that is?" Reid asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Never seen her," Morgan said, crossing his arms. "Maybe she's lost. I'll go check."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence Sabin wasn't exactly excited about her first day working at the FBI — she wasn't excited to have a job at all but it was either this or prison. Years of not thinking through any of her decisions and this is where it led her. She didn't even have professional-looking clothes, making her stand out even more once she reached the floor for the Behavioral Analysis Unit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had been told that the Penelope Garcia she had met the previous week would be waiting for her when she arrived, but one look around the room proved otherwise. For a moment she thought about wandering down one of the hallways to search for the technical analyst, but given the lack of signs to help guide her, she decided to stay where she was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was only a few moments before she was approached by a man. He was a tall, handsome, black man who smiled as he approached.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hi. I'm SSA Derek Morgan," he introduced. "Can I help you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence tilted her head and studied him. "What's SSA mean?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Supervisory Special Agent," he explained. "I'm a profiler for the BAU."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry. What's profiler mean?" she asked sheepishly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan chuckled, picking up on her embarrassment. "I study crime scenes and past cases to draw up a profile to give to law enforcement in order to catch criminals. We've helped put away some of the worst serial killers in the world."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Serial killers? Jesus, I should've asked more questions before taking this job," Florence muttered to herself though Morgan could still hear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So, you're a new employee?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was then Florence realized she hadn't actually introduced herself. Automatically she stuck her hand out for him to shake it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"My bad. I'm Florence Sabin. It's my first day. Um, Penelope Garcia is supposed to be showing me around but I got here a little early."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan grinned as soon as he heard Penelope's name, which let Florence know they likely were friends. "I can show you to her office if you'd like."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Lead the way, Mister SSA."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So, how old are you?" he asked as he led them down the hall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Eighteen," she replied, trying to memorize the path he was taking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Eighteen," Morgan repeated, shock evident in his tone. "Let me guess, you're a genius or something?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence snorted at the assumption that she was a genius — if you sat her down to take a 4th-grade history or science test, she would no doubt fail. "Or something."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan raised an eyebrow and perhaps would've continued to interrogate her, but they reached the door with </span>
  <em>
    <span>P. Garcia</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the name placard. Florence wondered if she would get her own name on the door. She guessed not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan knocked on the door before poking his head in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Enter, Mortal."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey baby girl," Morgan greeted, pulling Florence into the room. "Found someone in the lobby for you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia spun in her chair quickly to face them. "Oh my god, am I late? I was just focusing on this program and must have lost track of time—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You weren't late," Florence cut her off, smiling gently. "I showed up early. There's still eight minutes before you had to be there."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh good," Garcia said, sighing. Then she hopped out of her chair. "Happy first day at the FBI, Florence!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So, you in the babysitting business now, Garcia?" Morgan asked, smirking down at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, Hot Stuff," Garcia said, patting his arm. "Careful with your words. Give this girl five minutes and a keyboard and she could ruin your life."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan eyed Florence suspiciously. "How'd you say you got this job again?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't," she said, flashing an amused grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Baby, I love you but get out. I've got a lot to cover with her. If we don't get a case, I'll introduce her to everyone at lunch," Garcia said, shooing Morgan out of her office.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Morgan was gone, Florence had the opportunity to look over the room. There were plenty of monitors set up and though the room was darkly lit, it still held lots of character that brightened everything up. Garcia has several cute toys and knickknacks and decorations covering the room. There was a small portion of the large desk that was empty except for two monitors and a keyboard. There was a new office chair in front of the area.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Welcome to your new workspace," Garcia said excitedly. "I'm gonna get you set up and familiar with the system, though I have no doubt that you'll catch on quick."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sounds good with me." Florence put her backpack on the floor and sat in her new chair, spinning around to test it out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And I've been driving myself crazy trying to figure out how you managed to slip in and out of the Pentagon's system undetected. I know they questioned you about what you saw but that's the part I couldn't care less about. I’m just dying to know the how part. Speaking of, did you really look up Princess Diana and can you tell me if it was an inside job?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence smiled as Garcia rambled on. Clearly, she talked a lot when she got excited.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was how she spent her first few hours at the BAU — learning the new system, showing Garcia her favorite tricks, and talking about themselves. She heard all about the team of profilers that they worked with. Clearly, Garcia saw them as more than coworkers. They were her family, and Florence could only hope that soon she would like the team as much as Garcia did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By lunchtime, Morgan had managed to convince the team to eat lunch together so that Garcia could introduce them to someone. It came with a promise of Chinese food, which was spread out on the table for them to share — except Rossi ended up being the one to pay the bill. Once they were all together and waiting for their arrival, Morgan told them all he knew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Her name is Florence, she's eighteen, and somehow she got a job here. Apparently, she's good with computers, but from what I could tell, she wasn't one hundred percent sure what her job entailed when she took it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Eighteen? That's a <em>child</em>," Hotch stated, frowning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reid looked at Morgan in disbelief. "I didn't even get a job here until I was twenty-two."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You sound jealous," Prentiss said, smirking. "Worried you aren't the only genius we have to rely on now?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She didn't really give off genius vibes, but I wasn't in my profiler mode when I met her," Morgan said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Let's just make sure we're all welcoming to her," JJ said. The team snickered as she threw a pointed look at Hotch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nothing," Prentiss said, biting back a smirk. "You just have a history of being less than pleasant to some people some of the time, especially if a change is made to the team."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just remember that she's a kid and not to be too hard on her. Easy on the profiling," JJ said. "Don't wanna scare her off."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, come on," Rossi said, chuckling. "Let us have some fun with her. Back in my day, we got to put the newbies through all kinds of hell."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>JJ chuckled. "No hazing. Period."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Besides, think of it as the same as pissing off Garcia. I can't even begin to imagine the kinds of things she could dig up on all of us like she does for the unsubs," Morgan said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few moments later, Garcia knocked on the door and greeted everyone brightly while pulling Florence along with her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Everyone, meet Florence Sabin, my new technical analytic assistant, and your newest team member."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence waved at the six new faces who were sitting around the table and passing around boxes of Chinese food. "Ren's cool too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan simply waved at her, having met her just a few hours ago. The first to get up and shake her hand was a blonde woman. "I'm Jennifer Jareau, but everyone here calls me JJ. It's nice to have you here, Ren."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm Emily Prentiss," the other woman introduced, grinning while shaking her hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next was a young man who was probably only a few years older than Florence. Instead of shaking her hand, he gave an awkward wave. "Doctor Spencer Reid."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man sitting next to Prentiss rose from his chair and shook her hand firmly. "SSA Aaron Hotchner. We're happy to have you here, Florence."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he sat down, he gave a satisfied look to JJ that the others could read as "See, I can be nice."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last to go was the oldest and he smiled warmly at Florence before taking her hand. "David Rossi. I'm pretty new to the team too, kid."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hope you like Chinese. We've got plenty of everything," JJ said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, thank you," Florence said, smiling a little. "That sounds way better than the smushed up sandwich in my bag."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took a seat in between Reid and Garcia, who handed her a set of chopsticks. Florence pulled out a cherry-flavored Capri Sun from her bag and set it on the table to drink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So, Ren, how are you enjoying your first day?" Prentiss asked, smiling a little as Florence struggled to hold the chopsticks. She wasn't as bad as Reid at it though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Pretty good. The system is fairly simple to use. Didn't take too long for Penelope to show me everything."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So you must be pretty smart then," Morgan said. It was a fair assumption— Garcia had tried to teach him how to do her job, but he could never follow the more complicated parts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No profiling my new baby," Garcia said, pointing her chopsticks accusingly at Morgan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grinned and put his hands up in defense. "My bad, Mama."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's fine," Florence said, shrugging. "You've suddenly got a teenager on your team. Of course, you wanna ask questions. Besides, I kinda want to see this profiler stuff in action."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Careful what you wish for, Ren," Garcia said. "They have a way of figuring out all your dirty little secrets."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm eighteen. I don't have any secrets," she said, giving up on the chopsticks and using her hand to eat an egg roll. "I'm as open-book as you can get."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright," Prentiss said, sharing a look with the other profilers. "Did you dye your hair as a way to express yourself or to rebel against your parent's authority?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, parents died when I was five and then bounced around the system til I aged out, so, the first one. Pink is my favorite color and I wanted to be able to wear it every day so I just dyed it," Florence explained casually. She expected a question about her parents, but there were none.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Did you graduate high school and college early like Spence?" JJ asked her. "Do we have another Ph.D. collector on our team?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Collector? How many do you have?" Florence asked him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Three, but I'm working towards another one in Psychology," Reid explained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Woah," she mumbled in surprise. Spencer was so young and yet so accomplished. "I barely graduated high school with a C average."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So, you didn't go to college?" Morgan asked. They all shared a confused look. How had Florence managed to get a job at the BAU without some kind of degree?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nah. That Strauss lady was pretty annoyed that I don’t have a degree or even enrolled in a university, but I already know everything about computers, so the Director hired me anyways," Florence said. "I know she's the boss but I'm not a fan. She made it very clear that she didn't want to hire me and threw a big tantrum in front of the Director of the FBI about how I should be in jail."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Jail?" Rossi repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Why does she think you should be in jail?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia chuckled and answered for Florence considering her mouth was full of noodles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"This little cutie—", Garcia reached over and playfully pinched Florence's cheek, who tried to swat her away with her chopsticks, "—managed to slip in and out of the Pentagon database a few months ago without being detected. Even I couldn't find out how she did it, what files she saw, or who she was."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silence in the room was telling. Everyone had stopped eating and now stared at Florence in shock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why the hell would you break into the Pentagon's database?" Prentiss asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's the best part," Garcia said with a grin. She nudged Florence. "Tell them."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"My roommate's boyfriend said he'd give me twenty bucks if I did," she said, shrugging. "Kept going on about how I couldn't be that good of a programmer since I was a girl. I'll do anything for twenty dollars and the chance to prove a misogynist wrong."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And what did you do with the information you found there?" Hotch asked, eyeing her suspiciously. "Did you sell it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why would I sell it? I already had my twenty bucks. Bought a two for twenty from Applebee's and ate both entrees. Great day," Florence explained, ignoring the baffled looks the adults were giving her. Perhaps they were so used to being surrounded by horrible people and killers, that they forgot not everyone has some secret evil agenda.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So, if you got in and out unnoticed and untraceable, how did they find you to offer the job?" Reid asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Fast forward to a week and a half ago," she said, leaning back. "I don't think it was guilt I was feeling, but the fact that I could hack into one of the most secure places in the country at the age of seventeen bothered me. Odds are, there are others out there that could figure it out. So, I hacked into the CIA and did the same thing, except I left a nice little note explaining how I did it and told them how they could fix the holes in their security."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rossi cleared his throat and put his chopsticks down. "Kid, the fact that you aren't in handcuffs right now is a miracle."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Look," Garcia said, sighing. "I know her track history is a little overwhelming. But it's not that different from the offer I got — either prison or work for the BAU. Just think of it as having another me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence appreciated that Garcia was making such a strong case for her. It wasn't like the others could vote her off the island if they didn't like her, but it comforted her knowing that at least she genuinely liked her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, if Garcia trusts you, then so do I," Morgan said, gaining a smile from both technical analysts. "And if you're really as good as you sound then you'll be a big asset on cases."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks," Florence said appreciatively. "I'm guessing wanting to figure out why I was hired was the main thing you all wanted to know?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes and no," Prentiss admitted. "You're a part of the team now so we'd like to get to know you. Aside from programming, what else is there to know?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence finished off her Capri Sun and thought for a moment. She also pulled another one out of her bag, which made Reid smile to himself — she came well-stocked for her first day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I played soccer in high school."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Me too," JJ said, grinning. "I was a striker. What about you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Center back, but would goalie sometimes," she said, glad to have something in common with JJ.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe we can peer pressure everyone else into having a game some time," JJ said, grinning. "Though I don't think Spence has ever touched a soccer ball."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I have in fact held one in my hands before," Spencer said, ignoring Morgan’s laughs. "Did you know that the classic soccer ball has twelve pentagons and twenty hexagons that make up the pattern. It's commonly referred to as a truncated icosahedron."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mister eidetic memory here knows just about everything there is to know about anything," Morgan said, patting him on the back. His tone was mocking, but it was clear that he was also complimenting Reid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's really cool," Florence said, which made Reid smile. "My brain only lets me remember the kinds of things that matter."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What are the things that matter?" Prentiss asked, raising her eyebrows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well like, I could recite all three Iron Man movies to you right now shot for shot, but honest to god don't remember what my social security number is."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his face like an exhausted parent. Florence had to hold back a smile, knowing how funny it would be as these grownups continued to realize how much of a disaster she was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You need to know your social security number, Florence," he said, shaking his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence shrugged and began to chew on one of her chopsticks. "Eh, I can recall the last four numbers most of the time, and that's the part that matters for most stuff."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A baffled Hotch watched the new team member start a new conversation with Reid about superheroes while chugging her third Capri Sun, and he knew without a doubt in his mind that this girl was going to greatly change the team dynamic. He just didn't have a single idea as to how.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. INACCESSIBLE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>"we will be having a talk about ethics once this case is finished"</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence’s first day at the BAU had been relatively nice — a lot nicer than jail would’ve been. At the end of the day when she left for her new apartment, which was only a ten-minute skateboard ride from the building she now worked in, she had a good idea of what the people she would be working with were like.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, there was Garcia, who she would be sharing an office with each day. When Florence thought of an FBI agent, Garcia was the complete opposite. They shared a similar happy outlook on life and a love for computers. Her positive and flirty attitude was certainly something Florence was looking forward to each day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Next was Morgan, who was just as flirty with the quirky tech analyst. He liked to joke around and poke fun at everyone else. At the end of the day, he had made her smile the most. His humor was promising, considering the types of things they saw out on their cases.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Prentiss and JJ had made a joint effort to visit Florence a few times during the day, whether to just say hello or to ask her a new question. Despite being the younger of the two, Florence felt that JJ had a more mothering personality than Prentiss. Both clearly liked to have fun though, so she hoped they could all become friends since she didn’t know anyone in Virginia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reid seemed a little shy, but he lit up any time that Florence asked him things. She quickly found that it didn’t matter what she asked him — Reid just loved to share information that he had collected. Even though she forgot 98% of the statistics and facts he threw at her, she knew it made him happy so it was worth it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps it was a little early to deem them as such, but Florence got the vibe that Rossi was the fun mom of the group, and Hotch was the strict dad. Over lunch, Hotch had sighed heavily at just about everything that left Florence’s mouth while Rossi basically encouraged some of her questionable behavior. Hotch had also declared that he was going to make her learn her social security number, which made her laugh. When they got back to their office, Garcia had admitted that Hotch may try to parent her a little bit as he got to know her better, which they both agreed would likely be hilarious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence went home happy that they were nothing at all like Erin Strauss, and she was also pleased to learn the others weren’t fond of the Section Chief either. It was a good, calm day, and no one had treated her horribly. What more could she ask for?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her second day at the BAU was not quite as calm — it wasn’t calm at all actually. Her phone rang several hours before her alarm was supposed to go off. It was Garcia letting her know that there was a case and it couldn’t wait for them to all get to work at a normal time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two young, teenage girls had been kidnapped. Apparently, one of the bodies had been recovered, but it was so mutilated that they couldn’t ID whichever girl it was. The thought of the girl and those poor parents who didn’t know if their daughter was dead or alive was enough to wake her up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence had to meet Garcia in their office ASAP while the rest of the team got briefed on the plane to California. She was grateful that her apartment was so close to where she worked because even after a quick shower and throwing on a sweatshirt and leggings, she still beat Garcia to work. While waiting, she started a pot of coffee at Garcia’s request — she had to watch a youtube video on how to do it because she herself didn’t drink it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before Morgan called to request some help. “Garcia.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Angelfish,” Garcia greeted, sounding very tired.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right back at ya. I got a cell phone number for you. 619-555-0199,” Morgan said. Florence scribbled it on her arm since Garcia didn’t have a notepad near. “Access the last message left. I need you to put it through a filter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So can do, but it will require all my faculties. I'll call you back in a sec.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia typed in the phone number and handed Florence a set of headphones. The voicemail left started to run through the system, taking several minutes before it was clear enough to make out words. Garcia quickly transcribed it to text while Florence tried to listen for any telling background noise, which there was none. Both women did their best to not picture what was happening to the girls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence sat back as Garcia called Morgan back through video chat. The team stood around a laptop and listened as the message was replayed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It lasts exactly fifty-three seconds, and then it goes dead,” Garcia told them. “I think she was strangled.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan was the first to speak up. “What do you want to do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do? There's nothing else to do,” Rossi said. “The parents can I.D. the voice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you serious?” Prentiss asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, sir, they can never hear this,” Garcia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not like they have another choice,” Florence mumbled, frowning. Despite not seeing her on the screen, the others could hear her fine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kid’s right,” Rossi said, nodding. “It'll be the fastest way to figure out who we're looking for.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those in California debated for a while on if they should show the recording to the parents. Of course, it had to be done, and dread settled in Florence’s stomach as they played the message one more time. She couldn’t imagine being a parent and having to listen as your child dies over a voicemail.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voice ended up belonging to Katie, and Florence looked away from the screen, not wanting to watch her parents break down before leaving the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Those poor parents,” Garcia whispered as the video call ended.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what do we do from here?” Florence asked, not sure what standard things Garcia looked for in cases like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We look into everyone involved, including law enforcement and anyone helping with the search. We can split the list halfway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s what they did, and everyone in town turned up squeaky clean. The only helpful piece of information was from Katie, who posted video diaries online. Garcia and Florence sat back and watched as many as they could, trying to learn about anyone in Katie’s life that could have done this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s finally talking about how she met Lindsey,” Garcia noted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Katie went on about Lindsey’s father, Florence got an idea. She rolled her chair away from Garcia’s screen and to her own station.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Garcia asked, pausing the video to glance at Florence, who was typing very quickly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll let you know if I find anything. Keep watching Katie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia held herself back from peeking at Florence’s screen and focused back on the videos of the now-deceased girl. Just as Garcia was beginning to realize that Lindsey had lied to Katie about her life, Florence was figuring out why. Perhaps if she’d of checked in with Garcia, she could’ve put the puzzle pieces together faster.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s Hotch’s number?” Florence asked, suddenly rolling over to Garcia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? What did you find?” Garcia asked while pointing at a sheet with each of the team’s phone numbers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of answering, Florence went back to her station, too focused to communicate — Garcia would definitely have to work with her on that. Garcia stared at the younger girl for a moment before looking back at what she was working on and wondered if she should call Reid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch answered his phone on the first ring, simply stating his last name as a greeting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yo, Hotch. I found something kind of sketchy,” she said, staring at her screen. “Or rather a lack of something that is sketchy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean that Jack and Lindsey Vaughn don’t exist,” she said. “Not in a “they have very little online tracks” don’t exist. They aren’t real people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch paused for a moment, not sure if he could take Florence’s word for what it was — she was new after all. “Are you sure you didn’t overlook something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure. There’s not even birth certificates. But there is a birth certificate for Patrick Mannan, who does exist,” she told him. “Tell me, did Mr. Mannan disclose the information that he’s a U.S. Marshal?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time Hotch paused because he was surprised. “No, he did not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, he totally is. And after some digging around, I found out that he is currently assigned to protect two individuals in the Witness Protection Program — a father and a daughter. Their names are redacted, but I’ll give you three guesses as to who they likely are. And if we weren’t on a time crunch, I could probably dig up the unredacted copy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He could already know who took Lindsey,” Hotch muttered, annoyed because if Jack Vaughn really was in Witness Protection, then he should’ve disclosed that to them. “Wait, how’d you find that information? It wouldn’t be in any accessible database.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought I was hired to access the inaccessible information?” she mumbled, sipping on a cherry-flavored Capri Sun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will be having a talk about ethics once this case is finished,” Hotch said in a firm voice. Then after a second, he added, “Good work, Florence.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once she was off the phone, Florence turned to Garcia to finally explain what she had done but found her talking to Reid on the phone. She was explaining that Lindsey had lied to Katie about her family history, stealing it from some book. It was likely that the team would’ve soon figured out what Jack and Lindsey were hiding without Florence breaking into the U.S. Marshal database.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After Garcia hung up, she checked on Florence. “Did you hear everything I told Reid or want me to fill you in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I heard, and I also found the explanation as to why she was lying,” she replied. Florence nodded her head towards her computer, and Garcia rolled over to her. Like Hotch, Garcia also made a comment about how she wasn’t supposed to see who was under Witness Protection for their protection, but instead of scolding her, she asked her to show her how she did it for future reference.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence’s information about Jack’s real identity had been correct, and apparently, Mannan was displeased that the team knew about it. In the end, it did not matter, and eventually, they ruled the mob kidnapping Lindsey out. When she heard they were looking for teenage boys now, she couldn’t wrap her head around it. She was close to their age and never once had thought about doing what they had done to Katie. After several background checks, school photos, and learning about every boy in the area, they finally had the unsubs identities nailed down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The problem was that Jack Vaughn had found them first. One boy got shot and the other he killed right in front of his daughter’s eyes. When the team called them to fill them in on what happened, Reid had questioned whether Jack would be arrested for the murder. Based on the crime he had witnessed that Florence read about in his file, she figured he’d get to walk free.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t a particularly happy ending to her very first case, but Florence was so sleepy when Garcia told her she was good to go home that she still slept like a baby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next day, Florence dragged her feet towards Hotch’s office with a frown on her face and her laptop in hand. She paused to look at his door and groaned, which caught the attention of those in the bullpen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning to you too, Sunshine,” Morgan greeted, smirking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you sleep okay?” Prentiss asked. The question implied she might’ve been worrying but her amused tone said otherwise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence pouted and looked down at her sneakers. “I have to take this stupid interactive online ethics class and it’s three freaking hours long. Not only that, but I have to sit next to Hotch to make sure I don’t cheat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Prentiss smirked and took a sip of her coffee. “Good luck, Ren. Sounds like you’ll need it. Hotch too, probably.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They really think you’d cheat on an ethics course?” Reid asked, frowning from his desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> think she’d cheat on an ethics course?” Morgan asked, shaking his head. “But all questionable moral decisions aside, you did really good for your first case.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Florence asked, perking up a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I mean, we ended up spotting the Marshal’s gun and he had to tell us, but if that hadn't happened then we never would’ve known about Jack being in Witness Protection,” he pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Prentiss nodded in agreement. “And Hotch probably won’t admit it, but he was impressed by you yesterday. He’s just got to cover his back so that Strauss doesn’t jump down his throat about you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence chewed her lip nervously. “I didn’t know Hotch could get in trouble just because I did something like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s sort of a gray area in this business,” Morgan told her. “Each situation will be different and will call for different extremes. But Hotch being on thin ice with Strauss is nothing new. Don’t let it worry you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will do. Oh, hey. Can I ask a favor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What kind?” Reid asked, sitting a bit straighter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Every now and then would you guys mind maybe trying to distract Hotch?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And why would they need to distract me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence froze and shut her eyes as she heard Hotch speak from behind. Clearly, she had missed the fact that he left his office and walked over to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, hey Hotchner,” she greeted, turning on her heels and plastering on an innocent grin. “Hotch, my guy. How the heck are ya? Good to see you, Hodgepodge.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t call me Hodgepodge,” he said in a flat tone and ignored the snickers of the others. “You wouldn’t be trying to enlist your fellow agents in trying to help you cheat during the ethics exam, now would you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence put her hand to her chest in mock hurt. “You wound me and my honor, Sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just get to my office. I cleared off a part of my desk for you to sit at.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have fun,” Morgan teased as Hotch led her away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence set her computer up and plugged it in while Hotch started to do some paperwork. She took a few moments to glance around his office, taking note of the framed pictures of a little boy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that your son?” she asked, pointing to the closest frame, which was on the desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A hint of what might've been a smile appeared on Hotch’s lips. “Yes. His name is Jack.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How old?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Three.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know much about babies. Can he like, walk and talk at that age?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch chuckled. “He can do both, and three-year-olds aren’t really considered babies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence shrugged and pulled up the website she was meant to go to. “If it hasn’t started school yet, it’s a baby to me. Jack’s a cute kid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” He didn’t comment about how she probably should never refer to a child as “it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, can I listen to music while I listen to this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch gave her a look that basically said “no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon, Hotch Rocket, it’s not like I slipped Reid a mic and have him feeding me answers — wait! That’s genius. Why didn’t I think of that earlier?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch sighed and leaned back in his chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is gonna be a long three hours.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. KEVIN</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>"i am not bad at cooking mama"</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There had only been a handful of cases in the few weeks that Florence had been at the BAU. Most of them were short cases, which didn’t require much help from her or Garcia. Because of that, Garcia decided that the best thing Florence could do was to take old paper files and digitize them. It would definitely take a long time to do them all, but Garcia was hoping to have everything online in the next year or two.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence had spent two full days scanning in and organizing files from forever ago, and by the third day, she was bored out of her mind. Given that Garcia wasn’t in their office, Florence figured it wouldn’t hurt to roam around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, she ended up being just as bored in the bullpen. Prentiss wasn’t in yet, JJ and Garcia were talking in her office about something with the door closed, Rossi wasn’t in his office, Derek was who knows where, and Hotch and Reid had flown to some state Florence had forgotten the name of to interview some serial killer on death row. She ended up sitting at Reid’s desk, though she didn’t touch any of his things just in case they were important.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was how Prentiss found her when she arrived for the day — spinning around in fast circles in Reid’s chair. She watched Florence for half a minute, expecting her to get tired and stop, but the girl just kept going. Prentiss chuckled to herself before grabbing the back of the chair, which halted the spinning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence wobbled in the chair and put her arms out to try and steady herself as the room kept spinning around her. She sighed heavily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Emily, I have a fancy exciting job at the FBI. I should not be this bored out of my mind,” she complained. “Reid isn’t here to tell me facts and Hotch isn’t here for me to annoy. Those have become my two favorite pastimes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go talk to Rossi about the differences between Team Edward and Team Jacob until he gives you twenty bucks to go away like last week,” Prentiss replied, putting her bag down at her desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence pointed to his office. “Not here either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Prentiss furrowed her brows and looked towards the empty office. It was odd that Rossi wasn’t in, and what confused her even more was the piles of folders and paper scattered all over the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell,” she murmured, leaving her desk to check his office. Florence, dying for something to do, jumped up and followed her. Soon, she gathered Morgan and JJ to check out his office too. Florence stood quietly to the side, not quite sure of what they were looking for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hotch is in Connecticut, right?” Prentiss asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With Reid. They left last night,” JJ answered. “They’re doing a custodial interview. Chester Hardwick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, damn.” Florence could only assume by Prentiss and Morgan’s faces that he was a bad dude.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He doesn't need anything else on his mind when he’s dealing with a guy like Hardwick,” Morgan said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do we do?” Prentiss asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got any idea what Rossi was working on?” Derek asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>JJ was hesitant to answer. “I think Garcia might know. He stopped by her place last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” Florence asked. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t enjoy a house visit from her boss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not supposed to say,” Garcia said, appearing behind them. Florence looked at her and noticed how conflicted she looked. “He said he wanted to keep it between us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Penelope,” Prentiss said gently. “Rossi is a guy who color codes his handwritten notes in his notebooks. Blue pen for evidentiary items, red pen for supposition and theory. The guy is a fussy, anal, retentive neat freak who never leaves anything out of its place. I would say this is a scream for help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s in Indianapolis,” she told them, “on a twenty-year-old double homicide. He said it’s time someone pays for it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indianapolis? “Morgan asked, frowning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. He took a commercial flight this morning. He picked up a Bureau SUV half an hour ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jet’s available,” JJ told them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan nodded. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The three of them went off, leaving Garcia and Florence alone, the latter of which loudly groaned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was somewhat exciting but I’m still bored,” she grumbled. “And if I digitize one more file today, I’m gonna scoop my eyeballs out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia playfully rolled her eyes at her. “How many cases did you manage to get in the system since you started two days ago?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Every case from 1933 to 1941,” Florence stated, pouting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia’s mouth opened slightly. She had assumed that Florence had barely made a dent the last few days — it was a fair assumption. Every time she had looked over at Florence at her station, she had been singing songs from Mamma Mia and shoving junk food in her mouth. Garcia had no idea how she managed to make her way through almost ten years of BAU cases.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, I think it’s fair to say that you have earned a break,” Garcia admitted. “Stay in the office in case I need you for Rossi, but you’re free to do whatever you want on your laptop or your phone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I play on my DS?” she asked, brightening up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You brought your DS to work?” Garcia asked, chuckling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I bring my DS everywhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence was in the middle of making Squid Tempura on Cooking Mama when a man quietly entered their office. She glanced at Garcia, who hadn’t noticed his entry as she was too focused on her computer. The man nodded awkwardly at Florence before holding a finger up to his lips, asking her to stay quiet. Florence shrugged and went back to her game.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man looked over Garcia’s shoulder at her screen. “Beautiful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my—!” Garcia exclaimed. She whipped her head around quickly, which then frightened the man, making him scream.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m s - sorry,” he stuttered out nervously. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just, uh, you just look so beautiful multitasking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia glanced at Florence, who was glaring at her game — which probably meant she had messed up — before looking back at him. “What are you doing here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I work here too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, in your own office. Two floors down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t come over and visit?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you insane?” Garcia asked, freaking out as he moved in to kiss her. She stopped him with her hand. Florence glanced at them for a moment, smirked, and went back to her game.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” he asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you forgotten last night?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will never forget last night,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence pretended to gag, which Garcia saw out of the corner of her eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were caught fraternizing by one of my bosses.” Florence bit her lip to keep from laughing. Garcia had definitely left that little detail when she told the others about Rossi visiting her last night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know,” he said, clearing his throat. “It was rude of Rossi to show up at your place after work hours.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rude? You found him rude?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded and puffed out his chest. “You know, maybe I should have a talk with him. Straighten him out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want to straighten out Agent Rossi?” she asked in disbelief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, what I want is for me to be able to come up here and… and kiss my girlfriend. An - and if that means that I have to talk to him, well, then - then that’s what I’ll do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Girlfriend?” Garcia repeated while Florence mouthed the word in surprise. He nodded and smiled shyly at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kevin,” she said, touching his chest. Finally, Florence had a name for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia grabbed the front of his shirt and began backing him out of the room. “If you get within one hundred feet of Agent Rossi, I will unleash an unrecoverable virus on your personal computer systems that will reduce your electronic world into something between a Commodore 64 and a block of government cheese.” She shut the door in his face but quickly opened it again. “Call me later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Florence said, pausing her game and smirking at Garcia. “You wanna tell me about this fraternization you’ve got with Kevin?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia chuckled. “Why don’t you just go back to being bad at Cooking Mama.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence gasped. “I am not bad at Cooking Mama!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you gotten three stars on a single dish in the last thirty minutes?” Florence stayed silent and pouted. “My point exactly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m switching to Nintendogs,” she grumbled. “But seriously though, did Rossi walk in on you guys fuc—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d rather not discuss the details, Ren,” Garcia cut her off, blushing. “I’ve got to video call the team about Rossi’s case. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence hadn’t been paying too much attention to the case that Rossi was working. It wasn’t an official BAU investigation, and given that it was twenty years old, she figured no one was in immediate danger. She did leave her headphones out though so that she could somewhat know what was going on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She did pause her game in the middle of walking her chihuahua named Spencer when Garcia received a call from Rossi. Florence definitely wanted to see how he’d react once he found out the others were coming.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Agent Rossi?” Garcia greeted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything come back yet on that print?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. No matches. Nothing on file. Sorry,” she replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about my notes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Those I have,” she said. “Do you have a PDA? Florence digitized them and I can email them to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s a PDA?” Rossi asked, making Florence raise her eyebrows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a personal digital — never mind. Is there a fax number where you’re at?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s a fax number?” Florence couldn’t help but ask, now feeling like Rossi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m at the Palmer Hotel. I’ll be back there later. I don’t have the number.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, I will find it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Rossi said. “All right, I’ll check back with you in—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, and,” Garcia nervously interrupted him. “Sir, there’s something else that you should know. Agents Prentiss and Morgan found your office in disarray this morning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, they’re concerned about you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, tell them not to be,” he replied, annoyance clear in his tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, uh, Sir, that’s the thing, see? I’m sorry—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You told them about this case?” Rossi accused, raising his voice. Garcia tensed up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m — we’re all worried about you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn it! I asked you to keep this between us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Sir. I know, and…” Garcia paused and shut her eyes tightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence sighed and walked over to stand behind her. “Rossi, they’re coming to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re coming here?” he asked angrily. “I don’t need anybody’s damn help!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rossi abruptly hung up on them. Florence gently pat Garcia on the shoulder in a comforting manner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that could’ve gone better.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia took a deep breath. “Definitely. Ugh, he hates me now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At least he hates all of us now,” Florence told her, walking back to her chair. “Hey, I’ve got something I think might cheer you up a little.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A present?” Garcia asked, perking up the tiniest bit. “For moi?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence dug around in her backpack before finding what she was looking for. She pulled out a bracelet woven out of bright neon colored embroidery thread. She grinned brightly and held it out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that a friendship bracelet?” Garcia asked, grinning. Florence nodded as she took it from her. “Why are you literally the cutest thing on the planet?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence shrugged and smiled. “I was simply born cute.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garica laughed and slipped in on her wrist, tightening the straps. “I can’t wait to flaunt this in front of Derek and make him jealous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna make one for everyone eventually probably — well, maybe not Hotch. He’d probably throw it away. I’ve just got to figure out color schemes for everyone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hotch would not throw it away,” Garcia said, smiling softly. “I mean, he definitely wouldn’t wear it, but he’d keep it for sentimental value. Inside he’s actually a big softie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “So, need me for Rossi’s case yet? If not, I’ll try and get a few more files done for the day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Knock yourself out, babe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t take too long for Rossi and the others to solve his case. Once they contacted the original children of the victims, more and more pieces fell into place. They had found the man at the carnival he worked at, and even though he didn’t mean to murder their parents, he would be going to prison for it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Florence knew that the team was on their way back, she made her way to the bullpen to wait for them. That was where she found Reid, who she wasn’t aware had arrived back from his trip with Hotch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Teach me something, Boy Genius,” she said, sitting in Morgan’s chair and spinning around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Any topic in particular?” he asked, smiling warmly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm, dinosaurs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dinosaur fossils have been found on all seven continents,” Reid started, sitting up straighter. “There are approximately seven hundred known species of dinosaurs, though they continue to discover more. The very first dinosaur to be named was Megalosaurus and it was named in 1824 by Reverend William Buckland. Megalosaurus means ‘great lizard’ and it was nine meters long and three meters tall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Spence,” Florence said, grinning. She knew she wouldn’t remember any of those things, but it made Reid happy — something he probably needed after interviewing a serial killer all day. “So, how was your day in Colorado?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Connecticut,” he corrected, chuckling as she winced. Her mistake didn’t stop him from going over his day with Hotch. Whenever she had a question about the interview process, he didn’t hesitate to explain in further detail.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once she had spent enough time with Reid, Florence went to say hello to Hotch, who was signing some paperwork in his office. She knocked on his door and poked her head in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello, Turner and Hotch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch scoffed and looked up at her. “Have you ever even seen that movie?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope,” she said, shrugging. “Rossi just told me the name of it and said I could use it for nickname material. Said it was a buddy cop movie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you need something, Florence?” Hotch had fallen in the habit of calling her by her first name like everyone else on the team did, instead of her last name like every other agent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she said, grinning and fully stepping in the room. “Is it true you almost threw hands with the serial killer dude during the interview?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch sighed and glanced at Reid through his window, who must have mentioned it to her. “I was… momentarily agitated. Reid calmed the situation down though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence was prepared to make another joke but could see that Hotch was clearly bothered by something. It must have been why he was easily worked up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, you okay, Hotch?” she asked, showing a hint of concern that none of them had seen before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch internally appreciated the gesture, but his home-life problems weren’t something to unload on an eighteen-year-old girl who had a problem with joking when put in uncomfortable situations.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine, Florence. Next time I almost “throw hands” with a serial killer, I’ll be sure to ask Reid to video it for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would appreciate that so much,” she said, giggling. Then she turned and saw the rest of the team arriving through the window. “Finally, everyone is back together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence stood just outside Hotch’s door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pretty Boy,” Morgan greeted Reid. “How was Connecticut?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ultimately uneventful,” Reid said. Then he turned to Rossi. “Sir, there’s somebody waiting to speak to you in your office.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence frowned, having not seen anyone enter his office. She turned and softly gasped when Kevin stepped through the door. She couldn't wait to tell Garcia about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?” Hotch asked, having walked over and joined her at the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shh,” she said, waving him off. “I’ve gotta hear this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Agent Rossi, we need to talk,” Kevin said, standing his ground. “About Penelope… Man to man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rossi nodded respectfully. “Man to man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the team aside from Florence and JJ looked confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>about</span>
  </em>
  <span> Penelope?” Morgan asked, not knowing how Kevin was involved with his best friend. Florence couldn’t help but lean against the wall and laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Garcia and Kevin sittin’ in a tree</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” JJ sang, grinning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan’s jaw dropped and he looked back and Kevin and Rossi in his office. “Get outta here. Are you serious?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just when I thought nothing scandalous was ever gonna happen around here,” Prentiss said, laughing. Morgan was already marching to Garcia’s office.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Reid asked, cluelessly. “What does that mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t you hear JJ?” Prentiss asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The song meant something? No, I missed it,” Reid said, looking between Prentiss and the baffled Florence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Reid, are you serious?” Hotch asked, surprisingly joining the conversation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t believe I know something you don’t know,” Florence said, finally able to stop laughing. “Okay, okay. I’ll finish the song. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Garcia and Kevin sittin’ in a tree. F-U-C-K-I-N</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Prentiss had quickly marched over to Florence and put a hand over her mouth while Hotch sighed loudly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Those aren’t the words, Ren.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. GO-BAG</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>"i'll pick my bone with you tomorrow"</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have a go-bag?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence paused, having been in the middle of shoving an entire hash brown from McDonald’s in her mouth. Morgan and Prentiss had appeared at her and Garcia’s shared office, and the question came from Prentiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A what bag?” she asked, though it came out very garbled as she didn’t chew her breakfast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Prentiss and Morgan shared a look, before turning back to her. “There’s no time for you to go to your place and get one. We’ve got some FBI issued shirts and sweats in storage. I’ll grab them and put them in a duffle bag. Morgan, hunt down Garcia and tell her we’ve got to go. Ren, follow me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence, though confused, grabbed her phone and her backpack and swiftly followed Prentiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, what’s happening?” she asked as Prentiss stopped at a closet and grabbed several different t-shirts with the FBI logo on them. Next were two pairs of sweatpants that looked a little big for Florence. They were both shoved into an FBI duffle bag.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“New York has a serial killer and Hotch wants you and Garcia with us there. We’re being briefed on the plane,” she explained before again hurrying off with Florence following her. “The hotel will have toiletries for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“B - but I’m just supposed to sit behind a computer screen,” Florence stuttered out, taking the bag from Prentiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that’s what you’ll be doing there. It’s not like Hotch is gonna hand you a badge and a gun and send you out in the field,” Prentiss said, smiling. “It’s just that there are some cases where it’s more helpful to have you guys there and in New York’s system.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence chewed her lip nervously, which Prentiss caught out of the corner of her eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” she said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s just like a school field trip. It’ll be fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why am I having a hard time believing you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence looked around the private jet in awe, having never seen it before. There were cushioned seats and a whole couch. She saw a coffee maker in the back and Garcia had even told her the plane had an internet connection so that they wouldn’t miss any incoming information for their cases. Florence dropped her bag and threw her body across the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You guys get this and I can’t even get a chair with better lumbar support?” she asked, closing her eyes and relaxing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How come I only get to travel with you guys like once every 2 years?” Garcia asked, walking past Florence and smiling down at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trust me, mama, It can get old,” Morgan said, taking her bag for her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, right,” she chuckled. “Like the way that spa treatments in five-star hotels can get old?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Remember the time we got on board and they hadn't chilled the Cristal?” Prentiss asked, chuckling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooh. I almost quit the BAU that day,” Morgan joked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As you should’ve,” Florence quipped. “The audacity.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, you know what? You guys can joke all you want, 'cause I am never leaving this plane,” Garcia said, going over to the coffee maker.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek took a seat at the end of the couch, lifting Florence’s legs and setting them back down in his lap as he did so. When Rossi and Hotch began to discuss the victims, Florence opened her eyes and paid attention — considering she was going with them, it was likely an important case.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The victims?” Rossi asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Each killed in a completely different neighborhood,” Hotch explained. “Hell's Kitchen, Murray Hill, Lower East Side, Chinatown, East Harlem.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It doesn't make any sense,” Reid said. “There's no common Victimology, no sexual component, no robbery, no geographical connection. Do the police have any leads?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He's killing roughly every two days,” Hotch replied. “The press is having a field day, and it sounds like the mood on the street's getting pretty edgy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's a joint FBI-NYPD Taskforce?” Rossi asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kate Joyner heads up the New York field office. She's running point on the case and called me directly. JJ, would you tell them we're ready to go?” Once JJ got up to speak with the pilot, Hotch continued. “Kate's starting to butt heads with the lead detectives and wanted a fresh set of eyes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Joyner, I know her,” Morgan said. “She's a Brit, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, dual citizenship. Her father's British. Her mother's American. She was a big deal at Scotland Yard before coming to the Bureau.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I heard she can be a little bit of a pain in the ass,” Morgan added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn't think so,” Hotch defended her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know her?” Prentiss asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We liaised when she was still at Scotland Yard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And she's good?” Rossi asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we're lucky to have her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pilot then announced for everyone to take their seats as it was time to take off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, this’ll make for an interesting first trip to New York,” Florence said, propping up on her elbows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve never been?” Prentiss asked, surprised. “It’s not that far from Quantico. This is only a one hour flight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I’ve only lived here for like a month. Seattle is on the other side of the country.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think you’ll get much sightseeing in on this trip, Sunshine,” Morgan said, patting her legs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence shrugged and pulled out a Capri Sun from her backpack to sip on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, can I get one of those?” Morgan asked, knowing that she came to work every day with several of them in her bag.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For five bucks,” she said flatly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone but Morgan couldn’t help but smile. Morgan scoffed and stared her down as if she were a criminal. “C’mon. How many do you have in there? Five? Six?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps, but I didn’t know I was gonna have to come today. Sure, if I had a go-bag, I’d have plenty, but now I’ve gotta ration these bad boys out for however long this case lasts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ren, New York does in fact have stores that sell cherry Capri Suns,” JJ said in an amused tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, but if we end up being too busy trying to catch this guy to buy some more and I run out, I’ll never let it go,” Florence complained while grabbing a Capri Sun and roughly tossing it to a grinning Morgan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I get one too?” Reid asked, smiling slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The both of you are on thin ice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence stuck by Garcia’s side as they entered the New York precinct. When they stepped off the elevator, Hotch led them towards a pretty blonde woman, who Florence could only assume was the Kate Joyner he had mentioned on the plane.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it just me, or does she look exactly like Haley?” JJ whispered to Garcia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She looks like a hotter version of her,” Florence couldn’t help but speak up. She received amused looks from both JJ and Garcia, which only made her shrug. “What? I saw a picture of her in his office.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch greeted her with a barely-there smile, which was a lot considering he never smiled. “Kate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aaron,” she greeted. “How have you been?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, thank you. This is my team. Kate Joyner, this is David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, and Florence Sabin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence smiled and waved at Joyner when her name was called. If Joyner was surprised to see someone her age on the team, she kept it to herself and smiled back at her politely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for being here. Anything that you need, just tell me. Please don't stand on protocol.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can you tell Florence and me about the city's surveillance system?” Garcia asked her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, it's run by the NYPD. It's still in the infant stages. It's been rather controversial — American privacy laws. Um, but they've had some success.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And we’ll legally have complete access?” Florence asked, raising an eyebrow. The team knew she was good enough by now to get full access whether it was permitted or not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They're already expecting you. Shelly?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia grabbed Florence’s wrist and pulled her after Shelly, who led them to the surveillance room. They were taken to a small room a few floors down. There was a woman waiting for them there, who jumped up to greet them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You must be FBI. Lisa Bartleby.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Penelope Garcia and this is Florence Sabin,” Garcia introduced. “May I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bartleby let Garcia take the chair in front of the keyboard while Florence grabbed an extra chair and pulled it beside her. There were only a few monitors set up — Joyner was right when she said it was in the infant stages.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hardly ever get visitors,” Bartleby told them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You'll hardly know we’re here,” Garcia said, pulling out her laptop from her bag. “What's your operating system?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, Linux OS with 6 gigs of RAM.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And a dual quad-core 3- gigahertz processor with a Geforce 8800 ultra-extreme vid card and a Cisco ASA 5500 firewall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Bartleby confirmed, impressed by Garcia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bitchin'. How many cameras?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, 4,468 not including the ones that only run in the housing projects.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And all the footage is stored?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Catalogued and digitized.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beautiful, cause my Boss Man wants me to send him a file so he can run facial recognition software on each of the crime scenes,” Garcia said, already finding each of the files she needed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, I've already enhanced all of the photos as much as I can,” Bartleby said, glancing over at one of the monitors where she had the videos of the shootings pulled up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I'm talking about using it on the crowd immediately after the shootings. This is icky, but these creeps, they sometimes like to come back and watch the police deal with their handiwork,” Garcia explained before sending the files. “And voila.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you need me to do?” Florence asked, not sure where to go from there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need you, Baby Girl, to wiggle into the security cameras of all the stores and restaurants that surround the crime scenes,” Garcia instructed. “While you comb through that, Lisa and I will look over the street cameras.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can just get into other people’s surveillance footage like that?” Bartleby asked as Florence pulled out her own laptop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Totally, and since that Joyner lady said protocol doesn’t matter, Hotch can’t lecture me about how it’s unethical to hack into someone’s personal camera without their consent,” Florence said, already working her magic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Given that it was New York, there were over a hundred restaurants and stores to check, which would take some time. Florence knew what to look for — any sign of the hooded unsub. It went on for a while, and just like Bartleby and Garcia, as well as everyone else on the team, she came up empty-handed. She took a momentary break to sip on a Capri Sun and check Garcia’s screen. They had watched the latest murder on a loop, trying to spot anything that could help.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long have you been doing this?” Garcia asked after noticing the upset look on Bartleby’s face after watching someone get shot so many times.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, about six months.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wish I could tell you it gets easier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I'm used to pulling footage up for muggings. Maybe robberies. Watching someone get shot in the head…” Bartleby trailed off, shaking her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what helps me?” Garcia said, grabbing her purse. She then pulled out some of her little knick-knacks. “You make it your own. You know? You separate yourself from what you see on the screen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn't exactly, uh, regulation,” Bartleby said, eying the toys that now adorned her desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, then thank god it's only us in here,” Garcia said, and then she smirked. “Do you want to see a super fox? What camera's on the last crime scene?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence giggled, knowing exactly who would be the subject of said camera. She would definitely be telling Morgan about it once everything calmed down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek Morgan. Lisa Bartleby. Lisa Bartleby, Derek Morgan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, Garcia managed to catch a difference in the crime scenes. She was able to deduce that it was more than one unsub based on their heights in the videos. Florence wasn’t sure if that made the team’s job easier or harder now that they were looking for two or more suspects.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After they reported Garcia’s findings to the team, they made adjustments to the profile and called it a night. Florence was glad to go to the hotel, as she was almost asleep on her feet. Reid had to keep a hand on her shoulder when they got out of the cab and guide her through the lobby. Garcia and Morgan were off who knows where.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look at this.” Florence turned her head and saw Prentiss pick up a newspaper that was sitting near the door. She was sure that it said something about the unsub — maybe it even gave him a nickname. She didn’t care enough to check and instead went back to leaning on Reid. “Late Edition doesn't miss a beat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“JJ,” Reid said, nodding behind her. Florence again fluttered her eyes open and was surprised to see JJ’s boyfriend, Will, waiting in the lobby. She also noted that he was much cuter than he looked in the pictures she had been shown.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will.” JJ was clearly surprised to see him, meaning he hadn’t been invited.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will got out of his chair and joined them, smiling at JJ. “Took a shot and flew to D.C., but that didn't work out. I figured a train ride to New York was only a few more hours.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Detective,” Hotch greeted, shaking his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm sorry for showing up like this. I know you're working. But, um,” Will paused, staring deeply at JJ. “I can't stand you being on this case and me not being there. Not with what's going on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there a problem?” Hotch asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>JJ stared at Will for a moment before slowly turning to face them. “I'm pregnant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence certainly didn’t have a problem keeping her eyes open after that announcement. She couldn’t help but immediately stare at JJ’s stomach, which was still very flat. “Shut up,” she murmured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, my god, JJ! Congratulations!” Prentiss exclaimed, hugging her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I've asked JJ to marry me,” Will revealed to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will,” JJ said, cutting her eyes to him sharply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We're working out some kinks,” he said. Clearly, that was a delicate subject for the couple. Personally, Florence didn’t think being pregnant was a good enough reason to get married.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We'll, uh, give you both some privacy,” Hotch told them. He walked toward the elevator and JJ quickly went after him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Congrats, Will,” Reid said, shaking his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you guys have a boy,” Florence said. She was tired but still happy for JJ.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will smiled brightly. “I think it’s a girl. A mini JJ.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Twenty bucks says it’s a boy,” she said, yawning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re on,” Will said, chuckling. “You’re Florence, right? JJ has had nothing but good things to say about you. It’s nice to meet you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You too. Really, congrats on the kid,” Florence said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After saying their goodbyes to Will and JJ, they headed for the elevator. Once they got on, Hotch handed out keycards, except he didn’t have one for Florence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s mine?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch scoffed. “Yeah, like I’m trusting you alone in a hotel room in New York. Prentiss so kindly offered to share with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m too sleepy to argue about how you’ve wounded my honor and pride,” she mumbled. “I’ll pick my bone with you tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I look forward to it,” Hotch replied in his regular flat tone while Prentiss and Reid laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once the elevator reached their floor, Prentiss took Florence from Reid and led them to her room. Once inside, Florence immediately flopped face down on one of the queen-sized beds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not even gonna shower or change?” Prentiss asked, amused by her actions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do it in the morning,” she mumbled. “Not like I got sweaty sitting at a desk all day in that well-air-conditioned room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, Kiddo. I’m gonna wake you up thirty minutes before we leave in the morning. Sound good?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence simply put a thumbs up in the air and then she was out like a light.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next morning, Florence had no problem waking up. She had slept like a log, unlike Prentiss, who learned rather quickly that Florence snored like a bear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They met the rest of the team on the first floor. Everyone had grabbed breakfast from the complimentary buffet set up and got it to go. Florence grabbed two blueberry muffins and a bottle of milk. Once she had her food, she turned to the others and noticed that Morgan was staring at her and trying not to laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” he said, chuckling. “You just look like you stepped out of the FBI gift shop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was true, much to Florence’s annoyance. After showering, she had no choice but to throw on the clothes that Prentiss had packed in her last-minute go-bag. She was wearing a navy colored shirt with “FBI” printed on the back and grey sweatpants with “Federal Bureau of Investigation” down the side of the left leg. Both garments were also way too big for her, and not in the fashionably oversized way. Prentiss had taken a safety pin and tightened the waistband of the pants for her, which ended up giving her a duck-tail effect. While she looked ridiculous, Florence couldn’t help but admit that the outfit was quite cozy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I feel like it’s missing something,” JJ said, smirking. “Maybe an FBI issued baseball cap. I’m sure I could hunt one down for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How does it feel to bully a child?” Florence asked, shoving half the muffin in her mouth. “JJ, you’re about to be a mother. Would you want grown-ups making fun of your sweet son?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>JJ chuckled and rolled her eyes. “I see you can dish it out but can’t take it. Also, it’s way too soon to know what I’m having.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It better be a boy. I don’t have twenty bucks to give Will if it’s a girl,” she mumbled as they all made their way to the cars outside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ren, you make significantly more money than most eighteen-year-olds,” Reid pointed out. “And rent costs for housing on the base in Quantico are fairly low. I’m sure you’ll have twenty dollars to spare when the baby comes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter cause it’s gonna be a boy,” Florence declared, climbing into the back of the SUV.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was another day of sitting in the surveillance room in the precinct with Bartleby and Garcia. This time, Florence joined them in just watching the cameras and keeping an eye on the undercover officers in the streets. It was boring work, but Florence did her best to pay attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How many undercovers do we have?” Garcia asked, sipping on her coffee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Over eighty, but it barely makes a blip,” Bartleby said. “Surveillance cameras aren't designed to prevent crime. They're supposed to help us catch the perp after the fact.” Then she glanced at one of the cameras and sat up straighter. “I got one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence rolled her chair over to see the screen. There was a figure dressed in all black with a hood pulled up. She got a very bad feeling in her stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there anyone nearby?” Garcia asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Negative.” Bartleby grabbed the phone to call it in. “This is the surveillance command center. We have a possible murder suspect at the subway platform on 59th and Lex.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia also called Hotch to let them know. Florence kept her eyes glued to the screen, not listening as Derek argued with Hotch over the phone. Instead, she focused on the unsub as he walked past a lady, shooting her and quickly leaving the scene. The police were nowhere in sight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s dead,” Florence mumbled, sinking back in her chair. The unsub fled the scene and Garcia followed him with the street view cameras. “He's getting away.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Garcia, can you get eyes on him aboveground?” Rossi asked, not knowing she was already doing that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He's heading west on 59th street.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If he makes it to the park, we've lost him,” Joyner said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if the unsub had heard her, he ducked around the corner and out of their sight. “We've lost the visual,” Bartleby told them, frowning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are the police On the scene?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Negative,” Garcia said, feeling horrible as she stared at the lone body in the subway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So far, Florence’s first case in the field wasn’t going well at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next day, Joyner and Hotch took Morgan’s idea to get everyone out on the streets. Alone with Garcia and Bartleby, she would be communicating with everyone and watching through the cameras. Reid and Rossi were the only two out in the field. After everyone was checked in, Florence kept her eyes on Prentiss and Detective Cooper, wanting to keep an eye on everyone. After a few minutes, she would switch to JJ and Morgan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The phone rang and Garcia answered immediately. “Talk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Garcia, do you have eyes on everyone on the team?” Reid asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve got Florence rotating them, but will get them all at once,” she replied, glancing at Florence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded and pulled up all the cameras to see everyone at once. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but she kept her eyes peeled. If Reid had a bad feeling, then Florence knew better than to doubt it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, this is not good,” Bartleby said. Florence didn’t turn from the cameras but listened in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What's going on?” Garcia asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm doing what you asked. I'm looking at the footage to see if I see the same person coming back to the crime scene in the days after the shootings,” she explained. “So, I find the camera with the widest angle on the scene.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you don't have to sift through hundreds.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly, but—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone's hacked in,” Garcia realized as Bartleby showed her the screen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence looked over to see which camera they were referring to and looked back at her screen. “That’s closest to Prentiss and Cooper. Want me to tell them to check it out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no,” Bartleby muttered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence looked back at her computer just in time to see the unsub shoot a woman at an ATM.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Garcia,” Prentiss said, immediately identifying the gunshot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s running East on 16th,” Florence told her, having already checked. “Towards you guys.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They watched as Cooper and Prentiss pursued the unsub. He went down an alley, but instead of continuing to run, he stopped and turned around with his gun held out. Before Florence could even process it, Cooper rounded the corner and was met by the unsub’s bullets. Prentiss quickly took him down before checking on Cooper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Garcia! We've got an officer down,” Prentiss frantically said. Garcia was already calling for an ambulance. “16th west of Union Square.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence shut her eyes for a moment, frustrated with how this case was going, before beginning to contact everyone. She got on the phone with Reid and Rossi first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There was another attack,” she told them as soon as Reid picked up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where?” Rossi asked, getting ready to go to the scene.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“16th and Broadway,” she told them. “But Prentiss and Detective Cooper ran after them. Cooper is down at 16th street, west of Union Square.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is Prentiss okay?” Reid asked, worried about her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I’m not sure about Cooper. Not to kick the NYPD while they’re down, but their emergency response time is a joke,” she muttered so that Bartleby wouldn’t hear her badmouth her district.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seems so,” Reid mumbled more to himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence had a sneaking suspicion that more than one camera had been hacked into. After thoroughly checking that theory, they discovered that the number was in the thousands. It definitely supported Rossi and Reid’s terrorism theory. Once they made it through each camera, Garcia called Morgan to fill them in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Talk to us, Garcia.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We got a problem,” she said. “We went through and checked All 4,468 cameras. They hacked into the surveillance system. They've got footage of every crime scene. They've been watching since the beginning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How could we not have caught that?” Hotch asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They were smart,” Florence replied, sighing. “It wasn't system-wide and we weren’t looking for it. We had to check each camera individually.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And this is from every crime scene?” Prentiss asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm afraid so,” Garcia said. “They hacked into one camera at every scene.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have however worked some of my magic,” Florence said, cracking her knuckles. “Of course, I can’t undo the damage that’s been done, but I managed to embed the cameras with a virus. When anyone not going through the CCTV and NYPD systems try to hack in, it’ll take down their entire computer and wipe their hard drives. They’ll lose all the previous footage of the attacks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good work, Kid,” Rossi told her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Garcia, Florence,” Morgan said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So much for theory,” Rossi said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to hit the ground running,” Joyner said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm gonna head to the hospital,” Prentiss said. “I'll check on Cooper and brief Detective Brustin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Dave, will you go talk to the commissioner, and Morgan, you brief Homeland Security,” Hotch ordered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“JJ and I will talk to the Port Authority police,” Reid said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kate and I will go talk to the Mayor, and we'll meet back here as soon as possible,” Hotch said. “Garcia, how long to put all the footage from the crime scenes and response times on a drive and get it to me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fifteen minutes,” she replied, already getting to work. “I’ll send Florence with it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hung up and they quickly worked on transferring the files. Fifteen minutes later, she handed the password-protected flash drive off to Florence. While she took it downstairs, Garcia and Bartleby went to get some coffee a few floors down, knowing it would be a long night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch was a little bit impatient about waiting for the flash drive, but he knew that the Mayor would need to be fully briefed and he would need the documentation. He and Joyner were waiting in the lobby of the building, ready to leave, as they were the last of the team still in the building.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Exactly fifteen minutes after the order, Florence sprinted into the lobby, holding out the flash drive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry for the wait,” she said, handing it off to him. He and Joyner started walking towards their car and she followed. “Garcia put a password on it. It’s derek273549 with a lowercase d.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’ll be fun to explain to the Mayor,” Hotch said, rolling his eyes. Kate was a little ahead of him and heading towards the black SUV. “Thank you, Florence. Stay in the building and we’ll call you or Garcia as soon as we need anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence saluted him and started walking backwards to head back inside. “Good luck and stay safe, Hip Hotch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence turned her back to him and as soon as she did, everything went to shit.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. BOMBER</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>"you two caused me a lot of emotional distress this week"</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence heard the explosion before she felt it. First, came the loud roar that filled her eardrums. Next, she felt the heat on her back. And lastly, the force of it sent her flying to the ground. It all happened in a matter of seconds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her ears were ringing as she slowly rolled on her back. Florence held her head and stared at the big ball of fire that used to be an SUV. It took her a moment to process the fact that it had exploded. She touched her forehead and felt blood from where she hit it on the concrete. Had she been any closer, she would've been in much worse shape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence scrambled to her feet and took a cautious step towards the burning car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"H - Hotch?" she called out, but it was weak and barely above a whisper. She took another hesitant step, but then her knees locked up, too scared to get closer and find his body. "Hotch?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, her ears stopped ringing and she could hear the alarm of the car going off. For a moment she wondered how it was still functioning. The next thing she heard was a man shouting over the noise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sir, are you ok?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence turned and relief filled her chest when she saw Hotch standing a few yards away from the car. There was another guy there, checking on him. Florence ran over to them and grabbed Hotch's arm — he didn't even seem to realize she was there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You a cop?" the guy asked, eying Hotch's gun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Call 911. Tell them... that a federal agent..." Hotch trailed off and ran towards the burning car. Florence tried to hold him back but he ripped his arm from her grip. "Kate!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ok, so you want me to say—" the guy stopped talking, realizing that Hotch wasn't going to keep talking to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence chased after Hotch, leaving the guy to call 911. Hotch was trying to get through the fire and find Kate, not caring about his own safety. Another small explosion went off from the reaction, startling her, but she kept going. She grabbed Hotch as tightly as she could and pulled him back from the fire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hotch, get back!" she shouted, not knowing if he could even hear her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kate!" he continued to shout, trying to get closer to the car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence squinted her eyes and tried to spot Joyner through the flames, but she couldn't spot her. "Hotch! She - she's not there!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence looked around, trying to see which direction Joyner must have been thrown by the blast. Several yards out, in the middle of the street, was where she helplessly laid. Florence grabbed Hotch's shoulders and turned his body towards her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Immediately, he ran towards her. Florence moved to follow him but paused. She didn't know if she wanted to see what condition Joyner was in — she had been closest to the blast after all. Eventually, she swallowed her fear and ran towards them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joyner was laying on her back and Hotch was trying to get her to focus on him. Despite the large pool of blood under her, Joyner was still trying to move. She hadn't processed the fact that she had been hit by a bomb.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Am I moving my legs?" Joyner asked, turning her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?" Hotch asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Am I moving my legs?" she weakly asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence's gaze moved to Joyner's legs, which were bent at odd angles and remaining still. Tears welled in her eyes and she sank to the ground on the other side of Joyner's body. Hotch rolled her over to look at her injury, and Florence was thankful she didn't have to see it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm gonna have to see—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you ok?" Joyner asked him, not even seeming to care about her own injury.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, you just need to, um — I'm gonna have to see if I can... just pinch it off until they get here," Hotch stuttered out, making a face as he looked over her injury. "Sorry, I know it hurts."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No," Joyner said, shaking her head weakly. "It doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt at all."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kate, Kate, we're gonna get you out of here, ok. They're coming." Hotch told her. Finally, they could hear sirens approaching. Both Hotch and Florence looked up to see police cars and an ambulance, except they parked well over a hundred yards out. "Officer down! Officer down! Here!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But none of the responders came closer. Both Florence and Joyner realized why with a sinking feeling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Aaron. They're not coming," Joyner said, getting Hotch to stop yelling. "We told them not to, remember?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch stared helplessly at the responders in the distance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You can't let go, can you, Hotch?" Joyner asked, referring to her wound. If he let go, she'd bleed to death and there's nothing they could do to stop it. "Aaron... you don't have to stay."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not leaving," he said firmly. He kept trying to call out to the police officers as they set up barricades, but it was pointless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"They're not coming." Florence had almost forgotten about the other guy that had been there with them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, your orders are not to let anyone in until the area is cleared," Joyner reminded him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But that's—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joyner cut Hotch off. "That's proper procedure."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence took a deep breath and wiped tears from her eyes. Now wasn't the time to cry. Hotch glanced at the guy that was hovering over Joyner, not sure what to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sam, you need to get out of the area," he told him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I just want to help," Sam said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If you want to help, get somebody down here." Sam nodded and ran off towards the responders. Hotch then finally looked at Florence for the first time. "Go with him, Florence. It's not safe here."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gulped and wiped her eyes again. "You're not going to wait here alone."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch nodded, and for a moment she saw relief in his eyes. He was scared that Joyner was going to die while he was holding her, and that was certainly something that no one should be alone for. He turned his attention back to Joyner and tried to keep her awake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kate, I need you to wake up. Stay with me. Stay with me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I feel cold," she mumbled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's such a cliche, isn't it? I feel cold. Like in the cinema."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You've lost a lot of blood, but I think I've got it stopped."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wait. That's not right," Joyner went on, not even registering Hotch. "It's movies. Um, you say movies, not cinema."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just try to relax," Hotch told her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wh - why would you have a different word for—" She cut herself off with a wince, finally feeling some pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"All right, if they can't get down here, Florence and I are gonna try to lift you and just—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam ran back over to them as Florence got to her feet and crouched by Joyner's legs, ready to lift when Hotch told her to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"They just told me to get behind the barricade," Sam explained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ok, help us here, I'm gonna try to lift her," Hotch said. "All right, on three. One, two, three." They only moved her a few inches before Hotch had to sit her back down. "No, I lost it. I lost my grip. All right, I need to find it again. Need to find it. Kate, stay with me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She's bleeding," Sam said, looking down at his hand that was covered in blood. "She's bleeding!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No shit, Sherlock. She's been bleeding this whole time," Florence snapped, unable to keep her head. She took a deep breath and shut her eyes. "Sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She's not gonna die, is she?" Sam asked, looking at Florence with wide eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence didn't say what she really wanted — Hotch was trying to hold on to a little bit of hope, and she didn't want to take that away from him. But Florence gave Sam a small nod, answering his question. He moved a little closer to her as Hotch kept trying to wake up Joyner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're bleeding too," he pointed out, nodding to her forehead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook her head. "I'm fine. I was the farthest away."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hotch! Florence!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence looked toward the barricade and her heart leapt out of her chest when she saw Morgan running towards them. Maybe he could help Hotch and Joyner. When he reached them, he immediately put a hand on Florence's shoulder. Morgan saw that her only injury was the cut on her forehead and moved on to Hotch and Joyner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Morgan, we've got to get her out of here," Hotch said desperately.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"They're not letting any ambulances down here till they clear the scene," Morgan told them. Then he turned to Sam. "Kid, you gotta get behind the barricades. Go!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Go, Sam," Hotch ordered. "Take Florence."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't need to see any of this," Hotch said, staring down at Joyner. He meant she didn't need to watch her die.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence pathetically let Sam drag her away from the others as he wished them good luck. Sam moved them several yards out, but not far enough if there was another bomb.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sam, I want to stay and help to, but if we're gonna leave, we need to go farther," Florence told him, biting her lip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She watched and Hotch spoke lowly with Morgan before he answered the phone. Sam still didn't move back, and she thought he tightened his grip on her wrist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dude, you can let go," she said just as Morgan sharply turned his head to look at them. She couldn't make out the look on his face. Florence tried to tug her wrist from Sam's grip, but he only held her tighter. "Sam, let me go."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam wasn't paying any attention to her. He stared down Morgan with one of his arms out. He had an almost taunting expression on his face. Florence tugged her wrist again but he roughly pulled her into his chest. He glanced down at her with a sinister smirk, and the realization hit her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You set off the bomb."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckled and roughly threw her into the brick wall. Florence looked at him with wide eyes, but he had already started running, and Morgan was right on his tail. Florence touched her lip and chin, which had been scraped when she hit the wall, and winced. She was just glad he didn't have a second bomb or something to strap to her. She sighed heavily and made her way back to Hotch, dropping down to his side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glanced up at her worriedly. "Did he hurt you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm fine. Morgan should be able to catch up to him," she said, taking a deep breath. Then she looked down at Joyner, who was barely breathing. "Is she?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It won't be long," he said, helplessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry," she whispered. But then out of the corner of her eye, she saw flashing lights coming closer to them. "H - Hotch! Hotch, an ambulance! Look!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence hit his shoulder in excitement as the ambulance pulled up right next to them. The EMT got out with his supplies in hand and ran over to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She's got an arterial bleed in her back and I'm doing my best to hold it closed," Hotch explained as the EMT checked Joyner's pulse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You both okay?" he asked them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I just want to get her out of here."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Her pulse is weak and thready. I'm gonna need your help, ok?" he said, getting supplies out of his bag.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is the area clear?" Florence asked, feeling useless at their sides.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You were calling for help and I couldn't listen anymore," he explained. "My partner was too afraid to come in here with me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kate, we're gonna get you out of here. We're on our way out of here."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The EMT explained that they were going to turn Joyner over so that he could see her wound. Florence held her at the front to keep her from tipping all the way over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"On three. One, two, three. Ok. Ok, I'm gonna clamp that artery. When I say move, move your hand and get as far out of my way as you can and the girl can hold her up from the front. You got it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yep."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ok, move." As soon as Hotch let go of her, the EMT clamped the artery shut while Florence pulled Joyner up from the ground. "Ok. I need to get a bag in and start getting her pressure up. Get the gurney from the bus."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch got up and limped towards the ambulance. Florence wanted to run and do it for him, knowing she could move faster, but she was stuck holding Joyner up. Dropping her while the EMT was working on her injury could make things much worse. Once they got Joyner on the gurney, Florence hopped in the passenger seat while Hotch drove — he was in no condition to drive, but Florence didn't have a license so it was the only option.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Where's the closest emergency room?" he asked the EMT through the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"St. Barclay's."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Where?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm already pulling it up on my GPS," Florence told him, looking at her phone which now had a cracked screen. She also had several missed calls from Garcia which she had no choice but to ignore. "Four blocks up and one block East. It says the emergency entrance should be under the hospital."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"There will be signs to follow," the EMT added before putting his full attention on Joyner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you, Florence," Hotch breathed out, flying down the road.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, look who's back. Hello."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is she awake?" Hotch asked, glancing back. Florence took off her seatbelt and turned to watch through the small window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is that Aaron?" Joyner weakly asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you Aaron?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah. Kate, we made it," Hotch called out to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you," Joyner told the EMT.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't thank me. Thank your partner. He did it all," he replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They quickly made it to the emergency entrance, but it was blocked off by a police car and men in suits.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What's this?" Hotch asked as one of them stopped the ambulance and walked up to the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Secret Service," he replied. "We're directing all emergencies over to Lenox Hill."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm SSA Hotchner. I have SSA Joyner on board. She was injured in the bomb blast at Federal Plaza," Hotch frantically explained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Credentials."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"They're in my jacket at Federal Plaza."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I - I have mine," Florence stuttered out while digging in her pockets. She pulled out her badge and flashed it. "I'm just a technical analyst but they are Federal Agents."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I appreciate that, Agent, but this hospital is on a strict bypass," the man said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What is — what's that?" Hotch asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It means the hospital is closed. We're redirecting all emergencies to Lenox Hill."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She's not gonna make it to Lenox Hill," Florence insisted, tears welling up in her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just then the heart monitor flatlined. "I'm losing her! She's crashing! I'm losing her."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Please," Hotch begged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a second, the man waved them on. "Open it up."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He said something into a walkie talkie, but Hotch was already speeding away. Once they parked, they both hopped out and ran around back. The EMT stayed on the gurney to give Joyner CPR while Hotch rolled them inside the building. A group of nurses and doctors met them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What do you got?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"BP 50 over 30. She's bradycardic with severe spinal injury."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Joyner was rolled out of sight, Florence relaxed the slightest bit and turned to Hotch with a smile. "You did it. You got her here."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Hotch seemed to be distorted as he looked around the emergency room. He titled a little bit and moved closer to the desk. All of a sudden he fell over, crashing into a garbage can.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hotch!" Florence screamed, dropping to his side. She grabbed one of his blood-covered hands. "Hotch, no!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon, nurses were pushing her out of the way and grabbing Hotch. As his eyes closed, they lifted him onto a gurney and took him the same way that they had taken Joyner. When she tried to follow, she was pushed back into the waiting area.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence found her way to a corner of the room and slid down to the floor, crying. She pressed her hand to her eyes, trying to make the tears stop but they wouldn't. She was too worried about Joyner and Hotch and the terrorist threat and Morgan and every other horrible thing that could go wrong. Eventually, she fumbled for her phone and called Morgan, hoping that he would pick up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Florence?" he picked up. "Talk to me. I went back and you and Hotch were gone."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sniffed before answering. "An EMT broke the barricade and came to help. Joyner is in surgery at Lenox Hill. A - and Hotch just c - collapsed and they won't let me in to see him yet so I don't k - know what's wrong."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, Sunshine, try to calm down," Morgan said gently. "I'm headed to you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"W - what happened with Sam?" she asked, wiping her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan sighed heavily. "He's gone."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Crap," she muttered, rubbing her head. "God, th - this is — Derek, I don't — I can't—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Florence, I need you to take deep breaths," he instructed and she did her best to follow. "I'll be there soon and let the rest of the team know. Once you feel a little better, find a nurse, and ask them to look at your injuries. You hit your head during that explosion and then the bomber threw you pretty hard. I need you to take care of yourself. Can you do that for me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence wiped her nose and nodded. "O - okay. I'll see you soon. Please be safe."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"See you soon."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence took a few more moments to collect herself. She was still crying when she tracked down a free nurse, but at least she was breathing at a normal pace. She was led to a bed in the semi-private room next to where Hotch had been moved — the doctor examining him could be heard through the curtain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The nurse, whose name was Maya, was sympathetic as she watched Florence cry. Maya did her best to not hurt her as she cleaned the blood off of her face. Once her forehead and chin were bandaged, she left Florence on her own — but she did tell her that someone would let her know when they were done with Hotch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She ended up going back out to the waiting room so that Morgan would see her as soon as he arrived. At one point, a doctor came and explained what he had done to Hotch. Something was wrong with his ear and there was shrapnel in his leg, but they had fixed everything. Hotch wasn't cleared to go into the field though — and with his ear and her concussion, neither was allowed to fly on the plane back to Quantico. She was sure that wouldn't fly with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan soon made it there and ran up to Florence as soon as he saw her. She couldn't help but throw her arms around him and hug him tightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, you're okay. We're all okay," he told her, patting her back. "Let me see your face." He looked over her injuries and frowned when he saw the bruises already forming. Florence wasn't meant to be put in dangerous situations. "Take me to Hotch."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence led her to the nurse's station, where the doctor who worked on him was sitting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Doc. FBI," Morgan said. "How's Aaron Hotchner?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's got acute acoustic trauma in his right ear, and I pulled shrapnel from his leg."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just lay down. Sir!" They all turned when they heard a nurse arguing with Hotch, who was asking for his clothes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doctor ran into the room, pushing the curtain aside. "Agent Hotchner, lie down."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Doctor, I'm all right," Hotch stubbornly shouted. His ear was messed up and he likely didn't know how loud he was being.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hotch, stop it," Morgan said, trying to calm him down. "Just calm down. Doc, I got it, ok?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Morgan, where's Kate?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She's in surgery," he stated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Where are my clothes, please?" he asked loudly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hotch, your go-bag is on its way."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Has anything happened since the first blast?" Hotch asked, finally lowering his voice and calming down the slightest bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nothing."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sam?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's dead."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch sighed heavily. "Morgan, the profile's wrong."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From that point, everything moved so quickly. The rest of the team arrived, and once they were all together, it didn't take them long to figure out that the hospital was the target for the bombers. It was on the ambulance that Hotch and Florence had driven in on. They couldn't evacuate the target because they were in the middle of surgery, according to the Secret Service. Before everyone ran to track down the EMT and the ambulance, Hotch grabbed Florence's shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Florence, you get out of this hospital and get at least one hundred and fifty yards back," he ordered. "Call Garcia and stay on the line with her so that someone knows you're safe."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence nodded weakly and then Hotch was running after the others. Florence took off for the exit and ran until she could hardly see the hospital building. She leaned against a brick wall to catch her breath before calling Garcia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh my god, am I glad to hear your voice," Garcia said, sighing in relief. "As soon as this is all over, I'm hugging you until your eyeballs pop out."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence managed to chuckle but didn't make conversation. She knew Garcia was far too busy, and soon she was patched into her call with Morgan, who had reached the ambulance and the bomb.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Garcia, how long can you keep jamming the cell phone lines?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh, a few minutes, max. Why?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Cause I'm gonna have to get this ambulance out of here," Morgan said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Or you could just evacuate the building like everybody else," Garcia said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No. As soon as the airways are clear, this thing's going up."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Going up?" Garcia repeated, sounding frantic. "Oh, my god, that's like three minutes, cause that's when the satellite moves position."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Derek, don't do this," Florence pleaded weakly. "Please."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he was already in the driver's seat. "Garcia, listen to me. I need you to find an area of town I can drive this thing, and you tell everybody, you hear me, everybody, that I'm coming. All right, talk to me, Garcia."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ok. Head north and floor it. I'll tell you where to turn."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence heard what sounded like gunshots through the phone. "Was that a gun?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It was nothing. Just talk to me!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence held her breath as the ambulance passed where she was waiting. Morgan was in there, and there was no guarantee that he would be getting back off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How am I doing, Garcia?" he asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"One minute, fifty seconds," Bartleby answered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why does it always have to be you?" Garcia asked, fear creeping up on her. "Why do you always have to do this?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Derek, you don't have much time. Please be smart about this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Signal's coming back online. Thirty seconds to full coverage."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Derek, drive to the opening and then get the hell out."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"There's something I really want you to know, Garcia."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Twenty seconds."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Save it. Just get out."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, no, no, I'm not quite there yet."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ten."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Morgan!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just listen to me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nine, eight."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Morgan, please."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You know what you are, Garcia?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We just lost tracking."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Morgan!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Derek?" Florence choked out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last thing they heard over the phone was a loud explosion. Florence could see smoke rising in the distance and she felt a sob coming up in her throat. She covered her mouth to try and stifle her cries, imagining the worst. However, a few moments later, she heard his voice over the phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Garcia, I'll tell you what you are to me." Florence gasped when she heard him alive and well. "You're my god-given solace. Woman, you promise me one thing — Whatever happens, don't you ever stop talking to me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't right now 'cause I'm mad at you," Garcia said. They all could hear that she too had been crying. Then she took off her headset.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can wait," Morgan sighed out. Then he heard sniffling over the line. "You still there, Sunshine, or are you mad too?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not mad at you," she mumbled, leaning against the wall. "However, I distinctly remember telling you to stay safe and what you just did was the opposite."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek chuckled. "Will a Capri Sun on me make you feel better?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Seeing you will make me feel better."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When it was finally time to go home, Florence couldn't have been more ready. She and Hotch would have to take a car back to Quantico while everyone else flew. Florence wanted to complain, but her head felt horrible and knew the plane would've made it worse. So, she followed Hotch around, still dressed like she just stepped out of the FBI gift shop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While he was saying goodbye to one of the Detectives from the case, she leaned against the wall. After he shook his hand, she perked up, assuming it was finally time to go. Before Hotch could reach down to grab his back, Morgan swooped out of nowhere and grabbed it for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I got it," he said. "I'm your ride."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I thought Agent Davis was driving us?" Hotch asked, glancing at Florence to see if he was correct. She simply shrugged, not having remembered who was supposed to do what.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She was. I had her reassigned."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't you have something better to do?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Than to annoy you for three hours? Hell, no. With Ren's concussion, I can only assume she's not at her peak annoyingness," Morgan joked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can be annoying just fine on my own," Florence said, smiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Give me the keys," Hotch told him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not a chance, Hotch. Let's go," Morgan said. They started walking and Florence slowly followed a few steps behind. "So did we ever find out who the Secret Service had in the hospital?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Does it matter?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, I guess it doesn't."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Quantico's requested you transfer to run the New York office."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence stumbled and looked at Hotch's back as he revealed the fact that Morgan might be leaving. She truly couldn't deal with that. This case had been so emotionally exhausting, and if Morgan left she didn't think she'd be able to get out of bed the next day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hotch, they haven't even buried her yet," Morgan said, sighing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're at war. Things change," Hotch said in a flat tone. He was trying not to show he was bothered by Joyner's death.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't I need your recommendation?" Morgan asked as they stopped by the car. He studied Hotch. "You didn't give it, did you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Your actions, as incredibly brave as they were... would still be actions of an agent who doesn't truly trust anyone."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence found herself wanting to defend Morgan, but considering that that could lead to his transfer, she kept her lips sealed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hotch, I did it for this team," Morgan insisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"My opinion doesn't matter. Job's yours if you want it," he said, avoiding eye contact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hotch. Your opinion matters to me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"My life matters to me, and I have and always will entrust you with it. Would you do the same for me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both of them glanced at the car. Florence had moved to the right-side back door and tugged on the locked door, just wanting to get in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Still want to drive?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, they all got in the car with Morgan behind the wheel. Florence snuggled into her seat and kicked her feet up across the back seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not gonna talk a lot because my head hurts and Hotch's ear hurts, but you two caused me a lot of emotional distress this week so I want no complaints when I'm clingy when we get back to work."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The way you were before wasn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>already</span>
  </em>
  <span> very clingy?" Hotch asked, scoffing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're in the bullpen more than you're in your actual office," Morgan added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, that's because when I hear about a new joke, I rush to tell you all to brighten your day. Then I end up just staying."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Has it occurred to you that your jokes aren't funny enough that you need to disturb everyone's workday?" Hotch asked, leaning his head against the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't kid yourself, Frowney McFrownerson," she said, pulling her last Capri Sun out of her bag. "I'm fucking hilarious."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan smirked to himself and glanced at Hotch before making eye contact with Florence in the rearview mirror. "Hey, Ren, did you tell Hotch the one about the astronaut?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch cut his eyes to Morgan, knowing what he was doing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nope, he was in a meeting. So, did you ever hear about the claustrophobic astronaut?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch waited and realized she was waiting for his response, so he sighed. "No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He just needed a little space," Florence said, laughing to herself and slapping her knee for effect. "Why did the chicken go to the seance?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why?" Morgan asked, smirking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"To get to the other side."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch sighed again. "Oh, this car ride is going to be unbearable."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The car ride hadn't been that bad. Eventually, Florence ran out of jokes — though she told them that her head was hurting because she didn't want them to know she didn't have an infinite amount of bad jokes stored aside. Both she and Hotch were able to rest while Morgan got them to Quantico in just under three hours.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After Morgan parked the SUV in front of their building, he looked back at Florence. "I thought Prentiss was exaggerating about her snoring."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch nodded and glanced at Florence, who was curled up in a ball. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he actually couldn't hear her snoring much because of his injury.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan reached an arm back and shook her leg. "Wake up, Sunshine."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her snoring cut off and Florence sat up correctly, rubbing her eyes. She yawned heavily. "Thanks for driving us, Der."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No problem," he said, reading a text on his phone. "Garcia says that someone broke the coffee maker on the plane and they're still upstairs arguing about it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If it's alright, I'd like a moment with Florence," Hotch told them, not seeming to care about the coffee maker incident.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan glanced at Florence, who shrugged. He nodded and grabbed his bag before getting out. He mumbled a quiet "good luck" to Florence before heading inside, fully prepared to be accused of breaking the coffee maker.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once he was gone, Florence climbed from the backseat to the driver's seat. Once she was comfy, she turned to Hotch and smiled nervously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Um, before you yell at me, I just wanted to apologize," she said, looking down at her nails, which needed to be painted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why would you need to apologize?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I was just in the way during this case. I was completely useless when the bomb went off. I couldn't do anything to help catch Sam. I was just in the way there and when we got to the hospital. You don't even like me that much so I was probably the last person you wanted around during it all," she went on, frowning. "I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch frowned, and for a moment she thought he was going to agree with her. "Florence, first of all, you have no need to apologize. I should be apologizing. My decisions put you in danger. You got hurt in the field, and then I took you to the hospital that was about to blow up. I didn't question Sam and I sent you off with him. We're lucky he didn't decide to take you or hurt you further. That's my fault."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence rolled her eyes. "Hotch, none of that was your fault. None of us knew that he was going to blow up that car. None of us knew that the ambulance was the bomb. But you guys figured it out and saved the hospital. You did your job and saved the day."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch accepted the answer and studied Florence's face, focusing on her bandaged head. "You said that I don't like you very much."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>don't</span>
  </em>
  <span>," Florence stated, shrugging. "I get it. I'm annoying and I make you sigh a lot and I'm kinda dumb and I do things without thinking like break the coffee maker on the plane."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch narrowed his eyes at her and raised a finger. He clearly was about to lecture her, but held back and shut his eyes. "Florence, I may sigh at ninety percent of the things you say, but that's not because I don't like you. It's because you stress me out to the same degree as my three-year-old toddler."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence laughed to herself but didn't interrupt him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You are a part of this team and this family, Florence. You aren't dumb. You're incredibly bright. I certainly don't know anyone else capable of breaking into the Pentagon's database. Garcia reports on you every week. When she gives you mountains of paperwork, you only complain for a few minutes — and really it's just to get a laugh out of her — before putting your headphones in and getting your work done. You've been incredibly helpful to us and Garcia on every case, even if you don't feel like it sometimes."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, I wish you'd learn your social security number and maybe be a little less unorganized and chaotic," he said, chuckling. "But that doesn't mean that I don't like you. I'm glad we have you at the BAU."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Really?" she asked, grinning. Hotch had never said anything so nice to her. "Hopscotch, you're gonna make me cry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His lip twitched the smallest amount, but he did not smile. "The cost of the new coffee maker is coming out of your next paycheck."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ugh. I was wondering if you caught that little confession," she mumbled, rolling her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How'd you even break it? You don't drink coffee," he stated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know but it just looked so fancy and I wanted to see how it worked. Are you really going to punish me for trying to learn something new?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I put Jack in a timeout whenever he breaks something."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But I'm not a three-year-old," Florence sputtered out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch chuckled. "Which is why you'll be paying the full two hundred dollar cost of the coffee maker instead of being put in a timeout."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Two hundred dollars?" she asked, her jaw dropping. "Are the coffee grounds made of gold?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch smirked at her, clearly enjoying the situation. "Well, you were correct in assuming that it looked fancy."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'd rather be put in a timeout."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. JUST DANCE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>"well, i am a taurus"</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>Because of Florence’s concussion, staring at a computer screen gave her a huge headache. Because of this, Garcia had her working on paperwork for the majority of her first week back. Once her concussion was all healed, she then had to digitize all the paperwork she had filed away. For once, she didn’t complain about her job. Florence would much rather sit at her desk all day then spend another second in the field ever again.</p><p>Of course, she still took her frequent breaks to go bother the others. Hotch was at a doctor's appointment, so annoying him wasn’t an option — ever since he had admitted to enjoying her presence, Florence had spent much more time with him. Given that he wasn’t cleared to go out into the field yet, he couldn’t run away. </p><p>Florence settled for heading to JJ’s office. She knocked on the door and poked her head in, greeting JJ with a smile. </p><p>“Can I come in?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m just looking over cases,” she said, nodding to some folders on her desk. </p><p>“I won’t keep you long,” Florence said, taking a seat across from her. “But I have a present for you?”</p><p>“Oh yeah?”</p><p>Florence nodded and dug in her pocket before pulling out the gift. She held out a blue friendship bracelet like the one she had given to Garcia. “I made it for you. I picked blue for your son. Don’t worry though. I’ll get him a real gift when he gets here.”</p><p>JJ grinned and took the bracelet fondly. She was too touched to even bring up the fact that she could still have a girl. “Thank you, Florence.” It made her perk up when JJ slipped it around her wrist. “You know, you’re actually a huge sweetheart.”</p><p>“Don’t tell anyone though. I have a reputation for being a nuisance to uphold,” Florence said, laughing. Then she smiled softly. “You’re gonna be a totally bitchin’ mom, JJ.”</p><p>JJ was going to thank her again, but her phone rang. Florence let her answer it and left her office, waving goodbye. Next, she made her way to Reid’s desk and perched herself on the corner.</p><p>“Teach me something, Boy Genius.”</p><p>“Did you know that there are far more trees on the planet than there are stars in the galaxy?” he asked.</p><p>“No way,” she said, narrowing her eyes playfully. Spencer sat forward excitedly. </p><p>“Yes, way! There are only around four-hundred billion stars in the Milky Way while there are approximately three thousand and forty-one trillion trees on Earth,” he said. “And of those forty-one trillion trees there are over sixty thousand different species of trees.”</p><p>“I’ll keep that in mind next time I climb one,” she said. “Thanks, Spence.”</p><p>“Briefing room as soon as Hotch gets back from the doctor,” JJ told them, walking out of her office. “Should be about twenty minutes.”</p><p>“I’ll go let Garcia know,” Florence said, hopping off the desk. She waved goodbye before heading off to her office.</p><p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p><p>“So, what’s the tea?”</p><p>“For the last time, it’s called a briefing,” Hotch said, giving a pointed look to Florence. </p><p>“Same thing. There’s always weird tea with serial killers,” she said, shrugging. “JJ, take it away.”</p><p>JJ nodded to Florence and smiled before putting up an image of a dead girl. “This is Delilah Grennan. She was bludgeoned and raped during the night at her home in Lower Canaan, Ohio.”</p><p>“Lower where?” Prentiss questioned.</p><p>“Small town forty miles outside of Cincinnati,” JJ explained.</p><p>“Staging the body face-up with the arms across the chest like that,” Reid pointed out.</p><p>“Ritual,” Morgan concluded. Then he ruffled Reid’s hair, which he had cut and slicked back. “Nice hair, by the way.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Reid said with a hint of a smile. </p><p>“Uh, there's more,” JJ said. “Small puncture wounds on her stomach. Note the lack of blood.”</p><p>“They were inflicted post-mortem,” Prentiss noted. “Were there any other victims?”</p><p>“Kind of.” JJ hesitated before putting up several more pictures of other dead girls. “Victimology and signature match a serial killer from the same town ten years ago. Ten victims spanning over ten months. He called himself—”</p><p>“The Angel Maker,” Hotch interrupted. “I remember the case.”</p><p>“They caught that guy,” Reid said.</p><p>“And executed him,” Rossi added.</p><p>“That's right. He was put to death by lethal injection a year ago yesterday.”</p><p>“Yesterday.”</p><p>“So we're looking for a copycat,” Morgan said.</p><p>“Honoring the anniversary of his hero's death.”</p><p>“It says here they found semen at the crime scene,” Reid said, looking through the folder. “Perhaps locals will get a DNA match when they run it through vicap?”</p><p>“Well, that's where it gets weird. They ran it already and they got a match, too,” JJ told them while handing the report to Rossi.</p><p>“Well, if they already have a name, why'd they call us?” Prentiss asked.</p><p>“They've got to be kidding,” Rossi said, staring down at the paper. “The match they got back on the DNA is to a Cortland Bryce Ryan, otherwise known as... The Angel Maker.”</p><p>Florence clicked her tongue in surprise and crossed her arms. “Ah, and there’s the tea.”</p><p>“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch ordered. Once everyone got up to get ready, Florence quickly followed Hotch to his office. Before he could shut the door in her face, she weaseled her way into the room. He hadn’t known she was following him but looked at her expectantly. “Yes?”</p><p>She crossed her arms and stared up at him with the best scolding look she could manage. “Considering that I was only cleared for flying a few days ago and I only had a concussion, I’m pretty confident you aren’t supposed to get on that plane. Flying messes with the pressure in your ears.”</p><p>“I am fine,” Hotch said, sighing gently.</p><p>“Did the doctor tell you today that you can fly?”</p><p>Hotch paused for a moment, which already gave Florence her answer. “She signed off on me going back into the field.”</p><p>“The field isn’t the same as flying.”</p><p>“You’re very stubborn,” Hotch noted.</p><p>“Well, I am a Taurus.”</p><p>“Florence, I appreciate you worrying about me, but you don’t have to. I promise you that I am good to fly.”</p><p>Florence studied his face for a minute, but she was no profiler and couldn’t find any signs of him lying. She sighed and nodded, deciding to let it go.</p><p>“Fine. Be safe on the mission and have fun,” she said. </p><p>“They’re not called missions, and we don’t typically have fun on them.”</p><p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p><p>The rest of the Angel Maker case had continued to be just as bizarre as the beginning of it. Apparently, locals had a hard time believing that it was a copycat killer and not the original Angel Maker. Florence and the rest of the team thought it was ridiculous considering that he had been executed a year ago. Despite how ridiculous it was, the town Sheriff still insisted on digging up the body.</p><p>The dramatic gasp that left Florence’s lips when Morgan called to tell her and Garcia that his body was missing was probably a bit too exaggerated, but she couldn’t help it. The case was full of twists, and she loved it.</p><p>Florence and Garcia had been assigned to dig up what they could about fans of the Angel Maker. The fact that she could buy signed merch of serial killers online baffled Florence, but also, she was tempted to buy one of the origami figures folded into the shape of a dolphin. </p><p>“Did you know that John Wayne Gacy painted clowns?” Garcia asked Hotch and Prentiss when she called them to tell them what they found. “A murdering pedophile paints clowns, and people hang them on their walls. It's creepy on so many levels. I mean, clowns—”</p><p>“Garcia, I didn't know you had that hang-up,” Morgan said.</p><p>“Coulrophobia — abnormal fear of clowns,” Prentiss added.</p><p>“Oh, no, there is nothing abnormal about it,” Garcia said. “When I was twelve, a hobo clown groped my breast at a birthday party and made this old-timey honking noise when he did it. Apparently making it funny makes it ok.”</p><p>“Bruh,” Florence muttered with wide eyes. She suddenly felt like her fear of the dark and raccoons were practically unwarranted compared to that story.</p><p>“Were you able to find any auctions on angel maker memorabilia?” Prentiss asked, changing the subject.</p><p>“Oh, my vision. I found a ton. Mr. Maker was quite the self-promoter. He autographed everything — photos, panties, and for the discerning collector, screwdrivers.”</p><p>“You got to be kidding me,” Morgan said, scoffing.</p><p>“Yeah. He also made these little origami figurines out of cigarette boxes,” Florence told them “Garcia is trying to talk me out of buying the dolphin, but it’s really cute.”</p><p>“Did you pinpoint the most active collectors?” Morgan asked.</p><p>“That would be his overseas fans.”</p><p>“What about local buyers who also turned up on the prison visitor log?”</p><p>“Zilch.”</p><p>“What about sellers?” Prentiss asked. “High-volume brokers might know a broader spectrum of fans.”</p><p>“There is one guy in particular who seems to be the local distributor, as it were.”</p><p>“You got a name?” Morgan asked.</p><p>“Shebang!” Garcia exclaimed, pulling up his name. “Sid Rutledge.”</p><p>“Rutledge?”</p><p>“You know him?” Prentiss asked Morgan. </p><p>“He's a guard at Hawkesville.”</p><p>Once Florence rattled off his address, Morgan and Prentiss headed to interrogate him. Then she turned to Garcia, who immediately shook her head.</p><p>“I’m not gonna sit here and have you make fun of me about the clown thing,” she said, crossing her arms.</p><p>“Oh, no, I’m literally scared of so many things that I probably shouldn’t be scared of.”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“Like the dark, squirrels, raccoons, bugs, having to call the doctor to make an appointment, Chuck E. Cheese, those Furby dolls,” Florence listed while counting on her fingers. “I could go on.”</p><p>“Raccoons and Chuck E. Cheese?” Garcia asked, trying to not laugh.</p><p>“Spence told me they have rabies and maul people for food. Not only that, but they wear those little masks like super villains hiding their identity,” she explained. “And I went to Chuck E. Cheese for a birthday party once and spent most of it hiding from him under a table.”</p><p>“You poor thing, how do you even get out of bed every morning?”</p><p>“Usually because I roll onto the floor while trying to turn off my alarm.”</p><p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p><p>For the rest of the case, Florence and Garcia spent their time delving into the lives of those obsessed with the original Angel Maker. By reading the letters between the unsub and the Angel Maker, the team — well, Spencer — deduced that the unsub had gotten pregnant with his child. That left them searching for birth records for the area, which proved to be a lengthy list.</p><p>“Ok, there were four hundred and sixty-three children born in the Lower Canaan area between 2006 and 2008,” Garcia said to JJ over the phone. “So if you want us to find baby Angel Maker, we're gonna have to narrow this down.”</p><p>“All right, well, Reid still has more letters to decode, but he did find a phrase: I knew even before they told me that the future had taken root,” she said.</p><p>“Taken root? Sounds like someone got good news,” Garcia realized. </p><p>“Date of conception.”</p><p>“And the date of that letter?” Florence asked.</p><p>“Uh, January 7, 2007.”</p><p>“Ok, so we fast-forward 9 months—”</p><p>“Uh, 10 months, actually,” JJ interrupted.</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Gross,” Florence mumbled. She couldn’t imagine carrying a whole child for ten months.</p><p>“I know,” JJ said, sighing. “It was news to me, too.”</p><p>“Ok. So we'll search birth records from August to September 2007. How's that? We'll do single mothers only, in case she wanted to keep the father a secret. You know, didn't want to brag. Oh, your baby daddy's a third-grade teacher? Well, mine likes to poke people in the stomach with tools, so there." Florence snickered as Garcia did her thing. Soon, she had a list of names to give to the team. “There. Nine names. Now that's a little more manageable.”</p><p>And manageable it was. It didn’t take too long for them to narrow the list down to Chloe Kelcher. Apparently, she was on the jury when the Angel Maker was sentenced, and that was when she fell in love with him. Now, Florence was no expert on romance, but she was pretty sure that a courtroom wasn’t the sexiest of places.</p><p>Eventually, they caught her or at least thought they did. Kelcher ended up stabbing herself to complete the last constellation. And according to Morgan, Hotch had damaged his ear even further when the Sheriff shot his gun next to his head. </p><p>Florence had plenty to say about that, which amused everyone else. Usually, it was Hotch yelling at her about being more responsible, not the other way around. While he wouldn’t pull himself out of the field, Hotch at least agreed to drive back to Quantico instead of fly. As soon as she heard that he would be out of the office for a few days, Florence ran out of the office, not giving Garcia any explanation.</p><p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p><p>When the team landed and made their way back to the bullpen, they were met with Garcia. She was leaning against Morgan’s desk and kept glancing at the briefing room.</p><p>“Hey, Mama,” Morgan greeted her while putting his go-bag down. “What are you doing up here?”</p><p>“Before I tell you to go in the briefing room, I just want to preface with the fact that she ran off to do this the very second you told us that Hotch wouldn’t be coming back with you,” she said, grinning. “She says you’re only allowed to play if you don’t tell him about it.”</p><p>“About what?” Rossi asked, not sure if he should be worried or not.</p><p>Garcia nodded her head to the briefing room and they all made their way to it. They could hear the music before they opened the door. Prentiss was the one to open the door as she muttered a quiet, “Oh my god,” before the others could even see.</p><p>On the screen that was typically used to show pictures of crime scenes and dead bodies, was Just Dance. There was a Wii set up on the table and plugged into the tv. Florence and Anderson stood in the center of the room dancing to Umbrella by Rihanna. </p><p>“Anderson is much better than her,” Rossi whispered to the others. He was so amused by the situation that he didn’t bother to do his job and make them stop and get back to work. </p><p>It was true. Anderson’s moves were crisp and well-timed while Florence’s were awkward and sloppy. She was clearly having fun though as she tried to shove Anderson out of frame.</p><p>“Even with cheating, you’re going to lose,” he said, easily recovering. </p><p>“I play winner,” Morgan spoke up, announcing their presence. “Which is going to be Anderson.”</p><p>Florence gasped and looked over her shoulder, missing another move. “I’d appreciate some confidence, guys.”</p><p>“You’re thousands of points behind and the song is almost over,” Prentiss pointed out. </p><p>And thirty seconds later, Florence lost. Anderson, who had barely broken a sweat, smirked at her triumphantly. She stuck her tongue out at him before flipping her hair over her shoulder and walking over to the others while Morgan took her place. </p><p>JJ wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You do know we’re gonna have to tell Hotch about this on Monday.”</p><p>“Or, you could not,” she said, pouting. “Also, you’ve had your Just Dance privileges revoked.”</p><p>
  <b>||| </b>
</p><p>While Prentiss and Reid were off in Colorado trying to see if some church leader was a pedophile, Florence was wandering around the building. She had finished an appropriate amount of paperwork for Garcia to set her free. She had been lightly scolded earlier in the week for the Just Dance incident, but Hotch let her off the hook for the most part. She had to promise never to do it again, but Florence had crossed her fingers behind her back as she did — something everyone else on the team saw as they stood behind her to witness the scolding.</p><p>Now, things were seemingly back to normal. Hotch’s ear was getting better every day and Florence was back to annoying him like their touching moment after New York never happened. </p><p>“Hey, Ro,” Florence said, waltzing into his office where he was chatting with Hotch about a previous case. “Can I have twenty bucks?”</p><p>“Sure,” Rossi said, already pulling out his wallet.</p><p>Hotch looked between the pair with narrowed eyes. “Why do you need twenty bucks?”</p><p>Rossi waved him off. “I’ve learned that it’s better not to ask her what she spends my money on.”</p><p>Hotch sighed and turned to Florence, who was pocketing the money. “Why do you need twenty dollars from Rossi?”</p><p>“Well, apparently there’s this candle that smells like Harry Styles at Target, so I’m going to head over there on my lunch break and buy two.”</p><p>“You’re right,” Hotch said, rolling his eyes and turning to Rossi. “I shouldn’t have asked.”</p><p>“Hotch!” When Morgan suddenly shouted his name, they all ran out into the bullpen. Morgan and JJ were looking up at the TV which had the news on. “The TV. Prentiss and Reid.”</p><p>The news was reporting that there was a standoff with authorities and the religious farm that Reid and Prentiss had visited. Each side was armed and shots had been fired. “No one knows for sure how many people are inside. It is believed at least 3 of the child service members are still trapped within the compound.”</p><p>Suddenly, all of the phones in the office started to ring. </p><p>“All right, that means we're the lead with hostage rescue and support,” Hotch said. “Let's go.”</p><p>Florence quickly made her way to her office to notify Garcia. She tried not to think about how much danger Reid and Prentiss were in as she did so. It was likely going to be a long couple of days, and she needed to keep it together. </p><p>Once the team was in the air, they video called Garcia and Florence to go over the situation. They pulled up the same news channel from before, where the anchor was recapping everything.</p><p>“Turned deadly when the Colorado state police officers tried to serve a warrant. Colorado Attorney General Jim Wells says the reclusive cult has been the subject of a six-month weapons investigation.”</p><p>“Six months,” Morgan repeated. “We didn't check?” </p><p>JJ sighed. “No. We checked. I had ATF call wells. He told ATF there were no pending state investigations. He lied.”</p><p>“Why?” Rossi asked. </p><p>“Wells is challenging the Governor in the next election. He thought that ATF was about to poach his big election-launching weapons bust. Now it's clear he didn't know there were FBI agents there. He just thought the best time to serve a state warrant was when the kids were safe inside the school being interviewed.”</p><p>“What do we know about this sect?”</p><p>“Liberty Ranch was founded in 1980 by libertarian Leo Kane. He created it as a self-sustaining commune.”</p><p>“Libertarians believe that everyone has the right to do what they want as long as they aren't infringing on the rights of others,” Morgan added.</p><p>“But libertarians aren't religious,” Rossi stated. “Clearly this sect abandoned libertarian principles.”</p><p>“Benjamin Cyrus, the current leader, introduced religion eight years ago when Kane left,” Hotch told them. </p><p>“Garcia, Ren, what do we got on Cyrus?” Morgan asked them.</p><p>“Whole lotta nothing,” Florence muttered. “Homeboy never did anything on Earth ever.”</p><p>“However his predecessor, Leo Kane, is doing a seventeen-year stretch at Deerfield Federal Prison,” Garcia added. “Apparently libertarians do not like paying taxes.”</p><p>“Oh, can one of you guys teach me how to do those,” Florence mumbled as an afterthought. </p><p>“Seventeen years for tax evasion?”</p><p>“Oh, no. That would be two years for tax evasion and fifteen for going after four IRS agents with a Louisville slugger.”</p><p>“Let's have Kane brought to the scene. He's our best chance at finding out some idea of who we're dealing with.”</p><p>Once they hung up, Garcia and Florence got back to work, trying to find out all they could. Unfortunately, the thing about underground religious cults is that they had very little to no online presence. They didn’t have security cameras that could be hacked into or browser history to comb through. Reid and Prentiss were in danger, and Florence had never felt more useless.</p><p>Hotch and Rossi kept them in the loop. After they arrived in Colorado, Rossi had been appointed as the head negotiator. He had tricked Cyrus into letting them deliver supplies to them, which they managed to bug so they could hear what was going on.</p><p>Eventually, Morgan learned from Kane that Cyrus’ real name was Charles Mulgrew. That finally gave Florence and Garcia something to dig up, which they called to tell the team about.</p><p>“Charles Mulgrew. Convicted in Kentucky at the age of eighteen — three counts of statutory rape.”</p><p>“So we need to talk to the warden?” Morgan asked.</p><p>“Way ahead of you, honey,” Garcia said. “Mr. Kentucky warden said that once inside, Mulgrew found religion. Became a model citizen.”</p><p>“Well, it's not that hard to behave when you're in protective custody the whole time.”</p><p>“General population's a rough place for a child molester,” Hotch added.</p><p>“No, like, he was an actual model citizen,” Florence stressed. “He volunteered in the prison hospital and read to prisoners dying of HIV.”</p><p>“Good stuff,” Morgan told them.</p><p>“Damn straight. Now get our friends back, baby,” Garcia said before hanging up.</p><p>Shortly after that, the media had leaked that the FBI had someone on the inside. Thankfully, their source only said one instead of two. Unfortunately, Prentiss took the blame and from how it sounded, she had received a horrible beating for it. Florence could only be thankful that they didn’t kill her.</p><p>Prentiss eventually got word to the others that Cyrus was planning a mass suicide by blowing up the ranch. The team was planning to raid in the middle of the night and try to get as many survivors out as possible. There was nothing to do but wait until three in the morning.</p><p>Florence was tired, but neither she nor Garcia even thought about sleeping as they anxiously waited for the call that everything was okay. Soon after three, they received the call that Prentiss and Reid had made it out of there before the ranch exploded. A weight had been lifted off their shoulders, but they still didn’t go home. Florence settled into a desk chair in the bullpen and napped until everyone safely returned. </p><p>That was where Reid had found her, with her head on his desk and loudly snoring, waiting for him. He nudged her gently.</p><p>“Ren, we’re back.”</p><p>She sat up abruptly and looked around for a minute before focusing on Reid. She immediately sighed in relief and rubbed her eyes. “Oh, I am so glad to see you. Where’s Emily?”</p><p>“She headed straight home to rest. I just came up to grab my bag.”</p><p>While Spencer gathered his things from his desk to take home, Florence spun around in her chair. “Teach me something, Boy Genius. Something random.”</p><p>“Hmm, did you know that armadillo shells are bulletproof.”</p><p>“You should just make your vest out of them then,” she said, chuckling to herself.</p><p>“Why do you do that?” Reid asked suddenly.</p><p>“Do what?” Florence asked, tilting her head. </p><p>“You always ask me to teach you new things,” he stated, shyly looking down at his hands. “Everyone always hates it when I ramble off useless information. And you always complain about having to learn new things. Are you just making fun of me or something by it?”</p><p>Florence frowned and hopped off her chair to stand in front of him. “Spence, I’d never make fun of you for being smart. And I mean, I don’t always remember the facts you tell me, but that’s not the point. The point is that you like telling people all the things that you know. It makes you happy to tell me about dinosaurs and armadillos and soccer balls, so I don’t mind asking about them.”</p><p>Reid smiled up at her. “You just do it to make me happy?”</p><p>She shrugged as if it was nothing, but it wasn’t to him. “You should be proud of all you know, Spence, and don’t ever let anyone make fun of you for knowing it. And do your best to never get in another situation like this last one. I couldn’t have gone on if we’d lost you.”</p><p>“Yeah, you could’ve,” he mumbled.</p><p>“No, I couldn’t,” Florence insisted. “Every day when you guys are out in the field, all I can do is sit at my computer and hope that you don’t get hurt. It’s nauseatingly gross how much I care about all of you guys. So please do your best to not die on me, Spence. Please.”</p><p>“I’ll do my best,” he said, smiling. “Would you like to know more about armadillos?”</p><p>“Knock yourself out, Pretty Boy.”</p><p>“Well, contrary to popular belief, there’s only one species of armadillo that can roll up into a ball to defend itself — the three-banded armadillo. This is because the others have too many plates in their shells which limit their flexibility.”</p><p>Reid told her about armadillos on the whole walk out of the building. And he probably could’ve gone on even longer, but they both were tired and wanted to go home. Florence declined his offer to drive her home, knowing it was in the opposite direction of where he needed to go.</p><p>The next morning when Reid got to work, he stopped to look at something on his desk. There was a small bracelet woven out of red embroidery thread and it was sitting on a pink sticky note, and it made him smile. </p><p>
  <em> Dear Boy Genius, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Never stop teaching people new things. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> —♡ Ren </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i don't super love this chapter but it knocks out two episodes where ren doesn't do very much</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. TAXES</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>"what are taxes"</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>“You know, you should really be wearing protective gear when you’re on that thing.”</p><p>“I’ve never gotten hurt on it,” Florence said, shrugging.</p><p>“You’re literally putting a bandaid on your knee right now,” Garcia said, pointing at her left knee which had two pink bandages on it. “You ride your skateboard to work every day and half the time, you don’t even remember to bring your helmet.”</p><p>“Well, it’s just a ten-minute ride on a straight and well-paved sidewalk. It’s a perfectly safe trip.”</p><p>“Says the one with the bleeding knee,” Garcia said, sipping on her coffee. </p><p>Florence waved her off. “It’s just a flesh wound.”</p><p>“Did Spencer show you Monty Python and the Holy Grail?”</p><p>“Yup. It was really funny. He said he’s gonna show me Life of Brian next.”</p><p>There was a knock at their door and JJ stuck her head in. She had files in her hand, so they knew that there was a case. “Briefing room in thirty.”</p><p>JJ handed them the files, but also two little envelopes. Garcia and Florence shared a look before tearing into them. They were invitations to a baby shower for JJ in two weeks. It was yellow because JJ and Will had decided to wait until the baby came to find out the sex of it. Of course, Florence knew that it was just so Will could put off paying her the twenty dollars.</p><p>“A baby shower invitation,” Florence said while Garcia squealed in excitement. “No thanks, JJ. I can have a regular-sized shower at my apartment whenever I want.”</p><p>JJ sighed and tried to hide her smile. “Ren, you’re uninvited.”</p><p>“Noooo,” she whined. “I’m sorry. Please let me come and get your son his first Nerf gun.</p><p>Garcia rolled over and patted her on the shoulder. “Maybe stick to the registry, Sweetie.”</p><p>“Actually,” JJ said, chuckling, “Will would have a field day with a Nerf gun.”</p><p>“Wait!” Florence said, jumping from her chair. “Brilliant idea! While you ladies are at the baby shower, I can round up the guys and we can have a Nerf fight. I mean, I’d be at a disadvantage because they’re all certified to use actual guns, but still. It’ll be a blast.”</p><p>“I’m sure Prentiss could give you some tips.”</p><p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p><p>“Ok,” JJ started once everyone had arrived at the briefing room. “Six victims have been killed in a series of burglar-homicides all over central California. In order Bakersfield, Fresno, Chico, and, two nights ago, Alan and Brenda Paisley in Sacramento.”</p><p>“Big area. Are we sure it's the same unsub?” Rossi asked.</p><p>“His DNA was found in all the homes,” JJ explained.</p><p>“They hadn't connected it becaUse he crossed jurisdictional lines,” Hotch added. Florence noticed that that was often a problem. When it came to murder and what-not, she thought that jurisdiction shouldn’t really come into play.</p><p>“The head of the Sacramento field office has established a multi-agency task force and he wants us to run point,” JJ said.</p><p>Morgan flipped through the file. “Looks like we got a lot of investigators on this one.”</p><p>“We'll streamline it if we need to,” Hotch said.</p><p>“You should know that they've already named him the Highway 99 Killer,” JJ warned them.</p><p>“That’s not even a cool murder name,” Florence mumbled under her breath. Garcia, though amused, nudged her under the table.</p><p>“We'll deal with that when we get there,” Hotch muttered.</p><p>“He targets one to two-person households,” JJ went on. “He kills the victims while they sleep.”</p><p>“Blunt force trauma with objects found at the home,” Reid noted, flipping through the file. “Multiple bashes to the head.</p><p>“After he kills the victims, he ransacks the homes for valuables.”</p><p>“Which is not unusual for a nighttime burglary-homicide,” Hotch said. “What's unique about this unsub is that after he kills them, apparently he sits down to dinner in their homes. They found his DNA all over the food and the table.”</p><p>“Are these burglaries that turned into homicides or homicides that turned into burglaries?” Rossi questioned. </p><p>“Between the two offenses, it seems the primary motivation is homicide. Otherwise, he would have just stolen the items and fled,” Morgan said.</p><p>“But he stays there for hours,” JJ said, beginning to flip through crime scene pictures. “He eats their food, he tries on their clothes, he showers, he even sleeps in their beds.”</p><p>“It's like Goldilocks became a serial killer,” Prentiss added.</p><p>The Goldilocks Killer would be a better name than the Highway 99 Killer, Florence thought to herself. But she didn’t share that with the group.</p><p>“They've got plenty of DNA, but they found no fingerprints.”</p><p>“He doesn't take their cars. So, how does he get there?” Prentiss asked.</p><p>“No witness reports of strange cars on the street.”</p><p>“No prints, no gun, no noise, no car, no witnesses,” Rossi said. “This all adds up to prior experience.”</p><p>“There's a record on him somewhere,” Reid said.</p><p>“And until we find it, he's moved on to another town,” Hotch said.</p><p>“Which could be anywhere,” Prentiss added.</p><p>It seemed that tracking this guy down was going to be quite difficult.</p><p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p><p>There was only so much that Garcia and Florence could do until the team found more information. They found all they could on the victims, which told them nothing new. They were all unconnected and in different locations. There was a four hundred mile radius, which made the geographical profile incredibly difficult. Rossi and Reid were able to deduce that the unsub was hopping from train to train to get around. Then he would stay in the victim’s homes.</p><p>Eventually, the phone rang. Florence perked up as Garcia answered it, happy to have something to do.</p><p>“Go ahead, guys. We’re listening,” she said.</p><p>“Garcia, I need you and Florence to look into small farm towns all over central California. Track all unsolved homicides that involved nighttime burglaries in homes within a mile of train tracks.”</p><p>“Oh, you think there's more?”</p><p>“I don't know,” Reid admitted before letting them go.</p><p>“I mean, it’s likely,” Florence said, getting to work. “Especially since they’re all so far apart.”</p><p>It took some time to go through all the homicides — people in California seemed to have a habit of getting murdered. After going through all the evidence, they found three additional murders with the unsub’s DNA on the scene. They immediately called JJ to let them know.</p><p>“Hey, Garcia,” JJ greeted.</p><p>“Bad news alert,” she told her.</p><p>“Hold on one second,” Reid said. He called the others into the room to explain the situation. “I had Garcia look into all unsolved burglary homicides in central California, paying particular attention to small farm towns.”</p><p>“We found his DNA in three more cities,” Garcia said.</p><p>“How did I miss this?” Florence didn’t recognize the voice, so it must have been one of the officers in California. </p><p>“Small towns don't always link their evidence up to state or national DNA databases,” Reid explained to him.</p><p>“It can happen when unsubs cross jurisdictional lines,” Hotch added.</p><p>“What are the cities, Garcia?” Prentiss asked.</p><p>“Tehachapi, Vacaville, and Orange Cove. All farm towns,” Garcia said.</p><p>“And all supes far away from Highway 99,” Florence added, unable to stop herself from adding the little dig at whoever named the guy.</p><p>Once Garcia hung up, they both started looking into each of the towns that the murders happened in. After some digging, Garcia noticed a pattern in crop sales — Florence hadn’t picked up on it. Her only knowledge about farms was from playing Stardew Valley. Nevertheless, she got Reid on the phone.</p><p>“Hello?” he greeted. </p><p>“I've noticed in the cities — including the new ones we've discovered — there's a spike in the sales of certain crops during the time the unsub is there. Last week of August, apples in Tehachapi. First week of September, tomatoes in Bakersfield. Second week of September, fall squashes in Fresno.”</p><p>“So he's in town for a big harvest,” Prentiss stated.</p><p>“We have an unsub riding trains town to town during big harvests,” Reid said. “Who doesn't have a car or permanent residence.”</p><p>“Migrant farmworker,” Prentiss realized.</p><p>Once they knew what to look into, Garcia and Florence were able to find records of workers that were in the same areas of the murders at the same time. It wasn’t long before Garcia found exactly who they were looking for. The hard part would be tracking him down since he was homeless and wouldn’t be staying in any of the nearby camps. They called Reid, who was with Hotch and Prentiss, to fill them in.</p><p>“Ok, mini-lesson,” Garcia started. “Migrants travel and work in these groups and the groups are called cuadrillas. Now, I have found one such cuadrilla that was in Chico at the same time as our unsub. And then I checked and they were in Sacramento and Modesto And Vacaville at the same time as our unsub as well.”</p><p>“What about the first town?” Reid asked.</p><p>“Florence got employment records from the apple farm in Tehachapi. This cuadrilla last worked there two days before Mildred Younce was killed. Now, here's the whammy. An Armando Salinas checked in with this group in Tehachapi. But then, he falls off the map. There's no sign of him in any of the camps.”</p><p>“Interesting,” Prentiss muttered.</p><p>“Double whammy. Customs and Immigration have a rap sheet on him for theft and assault. And he's wanted in connection to some burglaries.”</p><p>“There's the record we've been looking for,” Reid said.</p><p>“Triple whammy,” Florence said, drumming on the desk. “His fingerprints were one of seventeen found at Mildred Younce's house.”</p><p>“Get us his photo and get JJ to get it out to the media,” Hotch ordered. “We're going to need the public's help.”</p><p>“Sending you his mug,” Garcia said. “The group that he's been following, they checked into Lockeford early this morning. That's not far from you.”</p><p>Once they hung up and sent out his mug shot, Garcia and Florence settled in, waiting for the call that Salinas had been caught. It wouldn’t be long, they figured, as countless officers were patrolling the train tracks and watching for him. </p><p>“Hey,” Florence said while chewing on her Capri Sun straw. “Twenty bucks says Derek jumps on a moving train to catch him.”</p><p>Garcia rolled her eyes. “No way am I making that bet. I one hundred percent think he’s gonna do that.”</p><p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p><p>“So, what’d you end up getting JJ for the baby shower?” Prentiss asked. She had joined Garcia and Florence in their office for lunch once the case was all wrapped up.</p><p>“I got her the baby monitor on her registry,” Garcia said. “Ren?”</p><p>“Oh, the Nerf Elite Titan CS-50 Blaster,” she answered, licking Cheeto dust off her fingers. “But I also got some diapers. Like a ton of diapers. They aren’t all the same size, but it’ll grow into them, right?”</p><p>Prentiss chuckled. “Yes, they will grow into bigger sizes, and maybe don’t call the baby an it.” Florence then started to clean up her lunch and fix her bag. “Where are you headed?”</p><p>“Oh, Hotch said after lunch he would show me how to do my taxes since I never had a job before this one,” she explained. </p><p>Garcia and Prentiss shared an amused look. “Please let us come and watch,” Garcia said, grinning. “It sounds like a wonderful Hotch and Florence bonding moment that I don’t wanna miss out on.”</p><p>Florence shrugged and put her backpack on. “Sure, if you’ve got nothing better to do.”</p><p>“Finished up all my paperwork for the last case this morning,” Prentiss said, grabbing her drink. “Lead the way, Ren.”</p><p>The trio made their way to the briefing room, where Hotch had his laptop set up and some papers sitting on the table. There were several forms he would have to explain to her. He glanced up and looked at Prentiss and Garcia, confused as to why they were there.</p><p>“Ignore us,” Garcia said, taking a seat. “We’re just observers.”</p><p>“You won’t even know we’re here,” Prentiss added, smirking. “Go on.”</p><p>Hotch rolled his eyes but didn’t make them leave. “Before we start, do you have any specific questions?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah, actually,” she said. “What are taxes?”</p><p>Garcia and Prentiss snickered while Hotch sighed. </p><p>“I thought we weren’t going to know you were here?” Florence asked, shooting an accusing glare at Garcia and Prentiss. Then she sighed. “Look, it’s not like they gave me a class on how to be an adult once I aged out of the system and was put out on my own. In the two months between getting kicked out and getting this job, I lived off of money left behind by my parents. I will try my best to be the minimal amount of annoying during this, but I’m being deadly serious when I say I don’t know what filing for taxes means.”</p><p>The adults in the room were silent for a few moments. They did often forget that Florence didn’t grow up with people who could teach her these things. It wasn’t fair to make her feel bad about things like taxes, cooking, and not knowing how to drive. It still baffled them though that she could do some truly astounding things with a computer but not recite her social security number — she was working on it though. She could now recite the first four from memory.</p><p>“I’m not going to go into the full definition of taxes and why we pay them,” Hotch told her. “I know you won’t remember it. But you have to do it every year or you can go to jail.”</p><p>“Oof, jail is no fun,” Florence muttered. “Trust me.”</p><p>Prentiss narrowed her eyes at her. “You’ve been to jail?”</p><p>“Yup—”</p><p>“Monopoly doesn't count,” Hotch cut her off. </p><p>“Oh, then no.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. LABOR</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>“anderson got a bracelet before me”</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was rather late when Morgan’s phone rang. He hadn’t been busy — he was spending his Saturday working around his house, which had been a bit neglected with all the cases they had had. However, he was tired after all the hard work, so when his phone rang, dread settled deep within him. He closed his eyes and prayed that it wasn’t Hotch or Rossi calling with another case.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan was surprised to see that it was Florence calling him, which was a bit odd. Other than sending out the occasional meme tailored to fit their personalities, Florence didn’t tend to talk to any of them outside of work. None of them did. They saw enough of each other in their cases.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Sunshine,” he greeted. He furrowed his brow when he heard loud music and people in the bathroom. “What’s up? And where are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um,” Florence paused and he could hear the hesitation in her voice. “A - actually, I didn’t mean to call you. I’m sorry for bothering you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Woah, woah,” Morgan said, not letting her hang up. “Is something wrong, Ren? And if you hang up on me, I’m just gonna keep calling you back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s stupid,” she mumbled so quietly that he almost couldn’t hear her over the background noise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No it’s not, so why did you call? You can tell me anything, Baby Girl.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just, uh, I - I’m at this party and I rode with other people and just feel really uncomfort—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m on my way,” Morgan said, already grabbing his jacket and keys. “Send me the address.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence sighed in relief. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His phone beeped and he checked over the address that she sent him. “I can be there in twenty. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, um, I’m - I’m gonna just wait outside on the porch. Seriously, Derek, thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After Florence hung up, Morgan pressed down on the gas even harder. She sounded very uncomfortable and nervous, so he was anxious to get there as quickly as possible. Morgan managed to make it to the address in seventeen minutes by going slightly over the speed limit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mouth dropped when he pulled up on the front lawn. The music was so loud that he could hear it through his closed windows. There were kids running around drunk, a few were passed out on the grass, and in the distance, he could spot a couple of kids putting something up their noses that he was doing his best to ignore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence was standing alone on the porch, with her arms wrapped tightly around herself and she was looking at the ground. Morgan hopped out of his car and marched up to her. When she spotted him, she visibly relaxed and met him halfway. She may not have wanted a hug, but Morgan wrapped a protective arm around her anyways.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You alright?” he asked her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded quickly. “I just wanna get out of here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Morgan and Florence were back in his car, he slowly started the trip to her apartment. She turned up the heat on her side of the car and went back to hugging herself. Morgan glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you wanna tell me about it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence nervously bit her lip before sighing. “I just, I thought I would try to make some friends. I met a group of people at this coffee shop and they seemed nice. I hung out with them a few times, and then I got asked to go to this party. I shouldn’t have ridden with them. As soon as I got here I wanted to leave. It’s definitely not the kind of party I’m used to going to. I know it’s stupid but they made me feel really uncomfortable and I just didn’t feel… safe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not stupid,” Morgan stressed. “And, you don’t have to go into specifics about tonight if you don’t want to, but just know that you can always call me to come pick you up. Never feel like you can’t come to me for help. I’m glad you called me and I’m glad you were smart enough to recognize that you were in an uncomfortable situation and leave it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence chuckled to herself. “Yeah, before I joined the BAU I probably wouldn’t have had the street smarts to call someone to come pick me up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kinda sounds like you’re admitting that some of Hotch’s lectures get through that thick skull of yours,” he said, smirking. “I’ll keep that to myself though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she said, leaning her head against the window. “For coming to get me even though it’s your day off. I know you probably had better things to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do anything for you, Baby Girl, and don’t you ever forget that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Chocolate Thunder.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek laughed loudly as she stole one of Garcia’s nicknames for him. “So, you’ve been trying to make some friends in the area? That’s good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, except apparently I have a bad judgment in people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your last group of friends dared you to hack into the Pentagon. I don’t think you’ve ever had good judgment in people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is, unfortunately, a good point,” she muttered, chuckling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, in a few weeks, Rossi and Reid are going to Stayer University to do a lecture. I can ask if you can come along and maybe run the PowerPoint. There will be kids close to your age there. Maybe you can make some friends.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence thought it over for a moment and shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt. Ro-Ro won’t mind if I tag along.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ro-Ro?” Morgan asked, chuckling. “Rossi lets you call him that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He suggested it. I think he was getting jealous of all my nicknames for Hotch,” she said, smiling to herself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hopscotch and Ro-Ro. I’d watch that buddy cop movie,” Morgan said. He pulled into the parking lot and turned to Florence. “Here we are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for picking me up. You were the first one I thought to call.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know I’m gonna rub that in Hotch’s face on Monday, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Knock yourself out,” she said, laughing. “I have something for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she pulled something out of her bag and handed it to him. It was a friendship bracelet made out of different colors of green thread. He took it with a grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s about damn time. I was beginning to think that I’d be the last to get one. Garcia, Reid, and JJ have been flaunting theirs around,” he said, shaking his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rossi has one too,” she added, which made Morgan scoff. “I gave it to him after our second pasta night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have pasta nights with him? Why don’t we get to come?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s teaching me how to make handmade pasta,” she explained. “I’m still very bad at it though. He says that once I’ve perfected my technique — whatever that means — we can invite the team over for dinner and I can cook for you guys. He keeps his bracelet in one of the card slots in his wallet because it clashes with his designer watch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Prentiss and Hotch are the only ones without theirs?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I gave Anderson his two weeks ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anderson got a bracelet before me?” he asked in disbelief. “He’s not even on the team.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can I say? We have a lot of deep talks when you guys are off on cases,” she said, shrugging. “Seriously, Derek, thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve thanked me like twenty times, Ren. It really was no problem,” he said, smiling softly. “Want me to walk you up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I can make it,” Florence said. Then she paused. “Maybe stay in the parking lot until I get inside.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. Would’ve done it anyway. Have a good night, and I’ll see you Monday where I’ll be rubbing my friendship bracelet in Prentiss and Hotch’s faces.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as the team finished up a missing child case in Las Vegas, Reid decided to stay behind and look into an unsolved murder from his past. Morgan and Rossi opted to stay behind with him while everyone else returned to Quantico and helped from there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence did what she was best at — digging up intrusive information on people’s personal lives. Even with using her less than ethical methods, she was displeased to learn that there was nothing juicy about Reid’s father, who had been their main suspect based on Reid’s memories. With Hotch and Prentiss in their office, Garcia called Morgan to fill them in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, talk to me, Baby Girl,” he greeted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm not interrupting boy time at Crazy Horse Too, am I?” she asked. One look on her phone told Florence that that was the name of a strip club in Vegas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know that's not my thing,” Morgan said in his usual flirty tone. “I'm more for in-room entertainment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can't help you but I do give good phone,” she shot back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch and Prentiss shared a look while Florence groaned. “I’m a child.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have sexy Lord of the Rings fanfiction open in one of your browser tabs,” Garcia shot back smirking. Hotch and Prentiss looked down at Florence in surprise while she sank lower in her chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan chuckled over the line before bringing them back to the task. “Let me hear what you got.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Reid, we've been all up in your father's business,” Garcia told him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you find?” he asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, let me tell you first what I did not find. No kiddie porn, no membership to illicit websites, no dubious emails, no chat room history, and no sexy Lord of the Rings fanfiction.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about his finances?” Reid asked, ignoring the joke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We went back ten years,” Hotch told him. “No questionable transactions that we can find.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, he did buy a ticket to see Celine Dion 6 months ago,” Prentiss joked. “But I think we can overlook that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He's smart,” Reid told them. “Is it possible he kept things under the table?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hotch paused for a moment, knowing that it would be difficult to convince Reid of his father’s innocence. “Well, of course. But from what we can tell, Reid, he doesn't fit the profile.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can tell you other things about him if you want to know,” Prentiss offered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm listening.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He's a workaholic, he actually logs more hours than we do. He makes decent money, but he doesn't spend a lot of it. He has a modest house. He drives a hybrid. He doesn't travel much. He stays away from the casinos. Um, and according to his veterinary bills, he has a very sick cat,” Prentiss told him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He appears to spend most of his free time alone, he goes to the movies a lot, and he reads. And from his collection of first editions, it seems his favorite author is—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isaac Asimov,” Reid said, cutting off Hotch. “I remember that one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He does have one other major interest. On his home computer, he's archived, like, a ka-jillion things on one common subject,” Garcia told him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You, bud,” Florence said. She knew it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “He's got, like, everything that's been published online about you. Every article you've been quoted in, pieces you've written for behavioral science journals, and he even has a copy of your dissertation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He's keeping tabs on you,” Rossi noted. “That's saying something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, he googled me,” Reid said. He sounded annoyed. “That makes up for everything. I'm going to get some air.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You guys still there?” Morgan asked after a few moments. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought we were giving him good news,” Garcia said, frowning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What else can we do?” Hotch asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, look up a name for us, if you would. Gary Brendan Michaels.” Florence was already typing in his name.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You like this Gary guy for the Riley murder?” Prentiss asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Somebody does,” Rossi said. After they explained everything they had learned. Everyone got to work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shortly after Hotch and Prentiss left, JJ came to the office and introduced them to Jordan Todd, who was shadowing her for when she went on maternity leave. She seemed nice enough, Florence thought, though she kind of couldn’t get over how young Florence was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After digging up everything on Michaels, Garcia called Morgan to fill him in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Talk to me, Garcia,” he greeted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, this Gary Michaels you asked me to track down seems to have peeled himself right off the grid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did he do? Skip town?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feels it. Maybe he took a new name, too. Everything in his name laps from non-use in the year after the Riley Jenkins murder.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe he didn't want to stick around for the investigation,” Morgan guessed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In addition to the indecent exposure wrap, he also had some lewd behavior — trespassing,” JJ said while rubbing her belly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trespassing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At a nursery school.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hard to believe the cops never pegged this guy as a suspect,” Todd said. Florence nodded in agreement while poking the straw in her new Capri Sun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Any other avenues to find him?” Morgan asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You betcha. They swabbed him in '85 for the exposure beef,” Garcia said. “So I'm sending up balloons through ViCAP and CODIS.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If he's offended again over the past twenty years under a different name—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which, considering his type, he probably has—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He will pop up somewhere.” JJ and Garcia told him. Florence quietly sipped on her Capri Sun and watched JJ, who subtly winced, which was odd.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All right. Keep me in the loop,” Morgan said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Later.” Then Garcia focused on JJ, also noticing her discomfort. “What's with the wincing? You ok?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” JJ said, brushing them off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure? I noticed this earlier,” Todd stated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Earlier? How often?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, in the last hour, I'd say every ten minutes,” JJ said as if that was nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“JJ, why didn't you tell anyone?” Garcia asked, sitting up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, <em>shit</em>,” Florence finally realized. “Are you about to have this baby?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” JJ said firmly. “I am not due for another three weeks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Newsflash!” Garcia exclaimed. “You're in labor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, no. Because Reid needs us right now,” JJ insisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need you, right now. Come on, get up,” Garcia said, helping her out of the chair. Todd and Florence followed as they walked to the elevator. “Ladies and gentlemen, I'm not a doctor. I don't even play one on TV, but I believe young JJ’s going into labor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you ok?” Prentiss asked, rushing to her side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'll get the car,” Hotch announced, quickly leaving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need to call Will,” JJ said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“From the car, honey,” Garcia said. “Breathe and walk. Breathe and walk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Agent Todd, I hope you're ready because your job starts right now,” Prentiss said, looking back at Todd.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence awkwardly patted her on the shoulder as she continued to sip on her Capri Sun. “You can come back and chill with me. I’ll have to hang back in case Reid needs something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reid, Rossi, and Morgan ended up not needing her tech sources. They were able to prove, with the help of Reid’s parents, that Michaels did abduct and murder Riley Jenkins. It was surprising that Reid’s mother had played a part in it, but it was understandable given that Reid had been a potential target as a child. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence agreed to wait for them to get back to Quantico before going to see JJ — it’s not like she was going to skateboard all the way to the hospital. Plus, it would be several hours before the baby would be born. Reid ended up offering her a ride to the hospital once they had received word that the baby had come.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reid knocked on the door and he and Florence poked their heads in. “Is there room for two more in here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Spence, Ren, hi,” JJ greeted, looking up from the baby. Florence saw that blue blanket wrapped around him and grinned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow. Congratulations,” Reid said, shaking Will’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is it that I just went through fifteen hours of labor and you look worse than I do?” JJ asked him, smiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don't be ridiculous. You look beautiful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>JJ shared a look with Will before he cleared his throat and turned to the others. “Well, I could sure use some coffee. Anyone else?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” Hotch said, still smiling at the baby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My treat,” Will added. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh, I don’t drink coffee,” Florence said, not taking the hint.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Prentiss rolled her eyes and pulled her by the shoulder out into the hallway. “You’re like oblivious to everything, Ren,” she said, chuckling. “Garcia said you barely picked up on the fact that she was in labor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y’all are the profilers, not me,” she said, shrugging.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Florence, I’ve got something for you,” Will said. She turned and grinned at him expectantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not really going to give her twenty dollars just because she correctly guessed that you’d have a boy,” Garcia said, chuckling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will chuckled and handed her the money. “I’m nothing if not a man of my word. Besides, I can’t be too torn up about it. Also, that Nerf blaster you bought for Henry’s baby shower was way more than twenty bucks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How much was the—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hopscotch, as a fully functioning adult, you don’t want to know what my Nerf budget is,” Florence cut him off. Then she kissed the twenty-dollar bill dramatically. “Mama’s got enough money to buy another Harry Styles candle.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. RECRUITMENT</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>"my birthday was three weeks ago" </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence took Morgan’s advice and decided to tag along with Rossi and Reid when they went to lecture at Strayer University. She hadn’t managed to make any new friends before the lecture began. Florence snuggled into a computer chair and ran the PowerPoint for them, growing more bored with every passing moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Most of us have done extensive post-graduate work in areas such as abnormal psychology and sociology, as well as intensive study of relative casework and existing literature,” Reid explained to the students. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But that's after selection to the unit,” Rossi added. “First you have to be an agent, work in the field, and that's what we're here to talk about. For that, the academics are wide open. Everyone in this room, once you graduate, regardless of your course study, is eligible to apply to the FBI.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence started picking at her pink nail polish. She didn’t have to go to college to get her job, but she was under strict orders not to tell potential future agents about how she hacked into the Pentagon and got a job offer for it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you study?” one of the boys in the class asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Criminal justice,” Rossi answered. “But sports appreciation was all full up at my community college.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hold doctorates in chemistry, mathematics, and engineering,” Reid told them. “As well as BAs in psychology and sociology.” The room stared at him in silence for several moments.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How old are you?” one girl asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, I'm twenty-seven. As of last month, I turned twenty-seven. I'm — I'm also completing an additional BA in philosophy. Which reminds me that I have a joke.” Rossi and Florence shared a look before turning to Reid. Something told them that Reid’s joke wouldn’t do well with this group of students. “How many existentialists does it take to screw in a light bulb?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don't,” Rossi whispered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reid waved him off and smiled to himself. “Two. One to change the light bulb and one to observe how it symbolizes an incandescent beacon of subjectivity in a netherworld of cosmic nothingness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room was filled with awkward silence and a few coughs of awkwardness. After a moment, Florence let out a laugh and dramatically slapped her knee as if she had heard the best joke in the world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reid looked at her hopefully. “You got it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence shook her head and bit her lip. “Not at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, well um, an existentialist would—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Reid could in-depthly explain the joke, Rossi cut him off. “Ok, before he does his quantum physics knock-knock joke, do we have any other questions about opportunities in the FBI?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The class laughed at Rossi’s joke before one guy spoke up. “Did you ever shoot anybody?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence rolled her eyes and went back to staring at the PowerPoint. If the first thing he wanted to know was about shooting people, he probably shouldn’t be given a gun. Rossi and Reid did answer the question though, explaining that the FBI dealt with very dangerous people. But they also stressed that they only fire their weapons if someone’s life is in danger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next question was directed at Florence, who had just opened a pack of Skittles. “What about her? Is she an agent?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It annoyed her that the question was directed at Rossi instead of her, but she got over it. She tossed a red skittle in her mouth before answering. “Nah, they just hired me to click next on the presentation slide. I wait tables at Applebee’s during the day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rossi sighed and rolled his eyes. “Florence is a technical analyst for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. She’s incredibly gifted with computers and helps us to solve our cases.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, and how old are you?” the same girl that had asked Reid his age asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Twenty-two,” she lied. Rossi and Reid didn’t call her out for lying. It was easier to let them believe her than explain how she got hired so young.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon, the attention was off Florence, and Rossi and Reid could finally talk about their jobs. Reid continued to try and connect with the crowd, which didn’t work at all. Every time he caused an awkward silence, Rossi swept in with a joke to perk the crowd back up. Florence wasn’t sure if they convinced anyone to apply to the FBI once they graduated, but it was better than sitting in her office all day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After the lecture was finished, several students came up to ask Reid and Rossi questions. Florence just hung back and played on her phone while following them. No one was really interested in her, which she didn’t mind. Though she’d have to be the one to tell Morgan that she didn’t make any friends. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon, the people trying to talk to Rossi and Reid thinned out and they could slowly make their way to the door to leave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do know we want them to actually join the Bureau?” Rossi asked Reid after a girl finished thanking them for coming.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Reid asked, not understanding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We want these kids to think it's a cool place to work,” Rossi explained while shaking another person’s hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand that, yeah,” Reid said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rossi scoffed. “Existentialism?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Existentialism is—” Reid stopped to thank a girl who told him that the presentation was neat. “That was a funny joke. What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, to Sigmund Freud,” Rossi said, rolling his eyes as they started going down the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I tell them I shouldn't — they keep on sending me here. I don't know why,” Reid said, frowning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you're young and the BAU doesn’t want people’s first impression of a young agent to be Florence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hear that, Spence? You make a better recruitment tool than I could ever be,” Florence said, chuckling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were then interrupted by an older man with long grey hair and glasses. “Dr. Reid? Wouldn't they sit in the dark and hope that the bulb decided to light again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” Reid asked, confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“An existentialist would never change the bulb. He would allow the darkness to exist.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, that's pretty good,” Reid said, laughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence and Rossi shared a confused look before they started going down the stairs again. The man followed them and kept talking to Reid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm Professor Rothschild. It was a brilliant presentation. Brilliant. You're a remarkably effective recruitment tool. The FBI is very lucky to have you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for saying that,” Reid said, smiling. Once again they stopped on the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May I show you something?” he asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's all right here,” he said, handing a black folder to Reid. Florence peeked over his shoulder to see weird pictures of ladies who seemed to be trying to cover the camera lens up. She didn’t really know what they meant, and neither did the others.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't understand,” Reid said, frowning. “What - what are these?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seven homicide victims.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Homicide?” Rossi asked while pulling Florence to stand behind him. He eyed Rothschild warily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seven women. The bodies have never been found. Not a fingernail, not a hair fiber. Acid is a very tidy way of disposing of something.” As he spoke, Rothschild took the photos back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Acid?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you saying that you killed these women?” Reid asked him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is still time to save the others, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Others?” Rossi questioned while Florence nervously grabbed the sleeve of his blazer. Why did bad things always happen when she left her safe office in Quantico?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Five more,” he stated.</span>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Reid asked, studying Rothschild carefully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In a bit less than nine hours, five other people are going to be dead, unless you can find a way to save them.” Then he dramatically tossed the photos down the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rossi and Reid worked fast, sending Florence to get campus police to them to help detain them. Then they brought him to the car outside. Reid made sure to keep Florence walking ahead of them so that she was farthest from Rothschild. Rossi called Hotch while they walked to the car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Reid, Florence, and I were just approached by some guy here with photos that he claims are seven women he killed. These pictures have all been manipulated in some way that you can't really see what they are… Seven women so far… There are five more live victims somewhere that we can save in nine hours... I don't think so, Hotch. I get a hit off him. Something hinky. I'm bringing him in… I'm sending shots of the photos to Garcia to start looking over, and Florence will join her when we get back… Yes, Florence is safe. I'll see you in about forty-five minutes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They reached the SUV and Rothschild was shoved in the back. Florence had originally sat in the back, but she switched with Reid so that she wouldn’t be so close to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is this?” Reid asked Rossi quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do not forget a word he says the rest of the time we have him,” Rossi ordered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once they drove off, Florence sat quietly with her arms wrapped around herself. She kept quiet as Reid started asking Rothschild questions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you said you're a professor at Strayer?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn't?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, you did introduce yourself as Professor Rothschild, right?” Reid asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your degree in philosophy surprises me, Dr. Reid,” Rothschild said. “It doesn't fit with mathematics and engineering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I kind of like it because there's no right or wrong answers,” Reid replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Without right or wrong, how would we recognize perfection?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this fun for you?” Rossi asked, clearly getting angry with Rothschild.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you having fun?” he asked again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Florence thought to herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's quite a bit more complicated than that,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wouldn't understand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rossi scoffed. “Try me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I read your books, David. You're not of the intellectual capacity to grasp what's going on here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you're trying to piss me off, it's not gonna work,” Rossi said. Though his tone said otherwise. “But if you killed seven women without leaving a trace of evidence, why turn yourself in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Imagine what the world would have missed if Da Vinci never showed his work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence sank farther down in her chair and did her best to not make a comment about how crazy Rothschild was sounding. She also couldn’t think of any of his art other than the Mona Lisa, but he probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Eventually, they made it back to the BAU. Florence was sprinting out of the car and into the building before Reid and Rossi could even unbuckle their seatbelts. Florence quickly headed to her office, where Garcia was still analyzing the photos.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never let me leave the office ever again,” she said, sighing and leaning against the closed door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Garcia asked. “Hotch told me about him just walking up to you guys. Was it scary?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just way too creepy for my liking,” she muttered, taking a seat at her desk. She didn’t stay there for long. Soon, she and Garcia were called to the briefing room, where the team was trying to piece everything together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We went through vicap,” Garcia told them. “There are literally thousands of open missing women cases across the country.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's not the entire country, though,” Reid stated. “Kaylee was abducted at nine-thirty this morning. He had time to take them somewhere, hide them, and make it to Fredericksburg two hours later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He'd need a place with a lot of privacy to hide five victims,” Prentiss added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A house,” Hotch guessed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He's local,” Rossi assumed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He was late for the presentation,” Reid noted. “You know, it was more like two and a half hours after the abduction. He got there around noon, which puts him somewhere around that radius.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Garcia, Florence, work up a map,” Hotch told them. “We need the farthest point he could have taken Kaylee from Loretto and still gotten back to Fredericksburg by noon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shouldn't be too hard.” Florence cut her eyes to Garcia when she said that. Making a map had nothing to do with programming and therefore had no idea how the math involved to create that map worked. In fact, without even trying it first, Florence was confident she wouldn’t be able to do it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All right, what do we know so far?” Rossi said, grabbing a marker and walking over to the board to write it down. “He's obsessively neat and clean. He did research on Reid and me at least. He's abducted five people and then gets to a scheduled recruitment session at a specific time. That's extensive pre-planning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you find anything in those pictures, Garcia?” Reid asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can't even positively say they're dead,” she said, frowning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about hair color?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All the ones that show hair, they appear to be brunettes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So is Kaylee,” Rossi noted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll start there,” Garcia said, while Florence scribbled it down. “Brunettes from central Virginia that are missing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“IDENT got zip on his prints,” Morgan said, entering the room. “He's not in any system. He's a ghost.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All right, if he hasn't been fingerprinted, he hasn't been arrested,” Rossi said. “Which also means he hasn't had a passport, driver's license, or been in the military.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never been a teacher, either,” Reid said. “You have to be fingerprinted to be a teacher.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So he's a professor who doesn't teach,” Rossi said, adding it to the board.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What kind of professor doesn't teach?” Todd asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A researcher? Someone on a grant, maybe,” Reid guessed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A grant would give him the time,” Hotch said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There must be some sort of central grant database. I can't imagine the government just handing out money and not — I'll look into it,” Garcia said, gathering her things. Florence got up and followed her back to their office.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want the map or the database?” Garcia asked once they were back to their computers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would never voluntarily ask for math,” Florence said, already getting to work on searching for a grant. “Have fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia rolled her eyes and pulled up a map of the area. She stared cluelessly at her screen for several moments. She quickly realized that Florence picked the right choice. “Ok, how far could he have gone from Loretto and make it back to Fredericksburg by noon? There must be some sort of mathematical equation to do this. Should have paid more attention in algebra. Note to self, get Dr. Reid in here ASAP.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am glad I’m not you right now,” Florence muttered under her breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as Garcia got up to go and find Reid, her computer dinged with an incoming email. Florence rolled over and watched. It contained a link to some website called golden rat. When Garcia clicked on the link, it took her to a live video feed. It was a long room, and they could see Kaylee and the four children spread out with gas masks on their faces. Garcia immediately ran to get Hotch, while Florence did her best to track the video feed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly the child furthest from the camera disappeared behind a wall that slid out of nowhere. Moments later, Garcia came back in with Hotch and Prentiss. Florence could do nothing but point at the screen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Th - the kid,” she muttered. Her chest ached, knowing something horrible had happened to the first child.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It just popped up on the screen,” Garcia told them, not having heard Florence. “It's them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are only three children,” Hotch noticed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There were four when I went to go get you,” Garcia said. “Florence?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The wall just - it just appeared out of nowhere,” she said, biting her fingernails. “The kid is on the other side.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is this on their faces?” Prentiss asked, studying the video.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They look like gas masks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would you fill a place with gas and then provide gas masks?” she asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To space them out like that,” Florence realized. “He’s keeping them in position until it’s time to add another wall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He said one of them is already dead,” Reid said, barging into the room with Rossi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One of the five,” Rossi added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are only three children,” Hotch told them as they crowded around the screen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“An anonymous site emailed to me,” Garcia explained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He said one will die every two hours, not all five in ten. When he said ten hours, I just assumed—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's a chess game,” Reid stated. “He's two moves ahead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let's not get diverted. How are we doing with the seven missing women?” Hotch asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia pulled up the list of women. “So far, I've got thirty-nine missing brunettes in central Virginia.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, thirty years old like Kaylee. Narcissists tend to be extremely preferential.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Twenty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He said he's been working on this for five years,” Rossi added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Over the last five years, seventeen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All right, if he thinks he's going to jail for even one of the original seven homicides, maybe he'll tell us where the rest of them are and give himself some deal room,” Hotch said. “How long do we have until the next one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reid checked his watch. “One hour, forty-eight minutes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After Florence failed to trace where the video signal was coming from, they focused on potential past victims. Once everyone was back in the briefing room, it didn’t take Reid long to figure it out. He went on about the Fibonacci sequence, which just flew over Florence’s head, but she trusted him on it. He took Rothschilds’ golden ratio necklace to try and help explain his reasoning. Eventually, he managed to locate where Rothschild was keeping Kaylee and the children.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently, Rothschild had boobytrapped the cabin, but Reid and Rossi were expecting it. They found tanks of acid behind the cabin and if they hadn't found it, they would’ve been drenched in it when they entered the room. The kid that had disappeared behind the wall was alive after all. Rossi and Garcia had also teamed up to make Rothschild think his trick had worked in order to get a confession out of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While it had been nerve-wracking, it was one of the cases that ended on a happy note. Rothschild went to jail and everyone came home safe. Florence was able to skate home that night and sleep like a baby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously though,” Florence said from her seat on top of Morgan’s desk. It was the Monday after the latest case, and she was eating her lunch there so that she could talk to the others. “I’m never going anywhere near another college campus. The one time I do, we get approached by a serial killer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, statistically, the average American walks by sixteen murders in their lifetime,” Reid told her. “Though we are outliers in that equation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think she finds that very comforting, Reid,” Morgan said, chuckling. Then he turned to Florence. “Sorry you didn’t make any friends and instead came back home with a murderer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence rolled her eyes. “I’ll live. Besides, people that are about to graduate college don’t want to hang out with a nineteen-year-old girl who barely made it through high school. They’re too smart for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re eighteen, Ren,” Prentiss said, chuckling. “And they wouldn’t care how smart you are. You’d win them over with your charming personality.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I’m nineteen,” she said, sipping on her Capri Sun. “My birthday was three weeks ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone in the bullpen froze and looked at her with wide eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sunshine, did we forget your birthday?” Morgan asked, rubbing his head. Then he turned to Reid and narrowed his eyes. “Spencer, what’s the point of that brain of yours if you don’t remind us of Ren’s birthday.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I - I - no one ever told me when it was,” Reid stuttered out. He looked like a little kicked puppy. “Florence, I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” she said, waving them off. “I didn’t tell anyone about my birthday.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not?” Prentiss asked, frowning. “We could’ve done something special.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence shrugged. “I don’t know. No one ever made a big deal about my birthday growing up. And then the only gift I got for my eighteenth was being kicked out of the group home. I don’t really think about my birthday.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m getting Garcia right now and we are doing something for your birthday,” Morgan said, getting up. “And you can’t say no. We’re taking you out this weekend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what if I already had plans?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Do you have plans?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence slumped back over. “No,” she mumbled. “Just tell her not to make a big deal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know that’s not possible,” Prentiss said, grinning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should’ve just kept my mouth shut,” Florence said, finishing her drink. “I probably could’ve gone a year and a half without you guys realizing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what would you like for your birthday?” Reid asked, smiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You guys don’t have to get me anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice try, but we’re getting you presents,” Prentiss said. “There’s no telling what Rossi could buy for you between now and then. Maybe he’ll get you an engraved iPad or a gold-plated skateboard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See, I know you’re joking, but now I kinda want a gold-plated skateboard just to say I’ve got one.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. BIRTHDAY</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>maybe i did steal reggie and the band from julie and the phantoms without even bothering to change their names because i love them that much. and what about it?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>"it's scrappy-doo or nothing"</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>Saturday night, Garcia pulled up to pick Florence up at her apartment for her birthday dinner. Prentiss and JJ — the baby was home with Will — had ridden with her, and apparently the rest of the team would be meeting them there. They had just finished up a case in Atlanta where the unsub was using his pick-up artist skills to kill women. All had ended well, or as well as a case could end. </p><p>They got all the paperwork wrapped up just in time for Garcia’s birthday plans. Florence was a bit overdramatic as she got in the car, complaining about how inconvenient it all was. Inside though, she was excited. She had never had a real birthday party before.</p><p>“Okay, so I tried to keep it as lowkey as I could,” Garcia said, driving off. “We’re going to this pizza place—”</p><p>“Oh, I love pizza,” Florence piped up.</p><p>“I know, Sweetheart,” Garcia said proudly. “The restaurant has some band playing tonight, and I listened to some of their stuff. You might like them. Anyways, after pizza, we have a cake and we’ll open presents.”</p><p>“Penelope, I really appreciate this,” Florence said, grinning. “But do not even think about asking that band to play Happy Birthday.”</p><p>JJ and Prentiss chuckled while Garcia sighed. She had clearly been planning on doing that. It didn’t take long to get to the pizza place. Everyone else was already there when they arrived. Once she got out of the car, they each wished Florence a late happy birthday. They also each had presents in their hands, which sort of got her excited. Despite saying they didn’t have to, she wanted presents from all of them.</p><p>They requested a table for eight and waited around the door until it was ready. In the corner, Florence noticed a claw machine with stuffed animals in it and immediately bounced over to Rossi. </p><p>“Ro-Ro, can I have some ones for the claw machine?”</p><p>“Sorry, kiddo,” he said, putting his hands up. “The smallest bill I carry is twenty.”</p><p>Florence pouted and spun on her heel to face Hotch. “Hopscotch, can I have some ones for the claw machine?”</p><p>Hotch crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Those things just steal your money. No.”</p><p>Florence sighed and rolled her eyes before spinning again and facing Morgan. At this point, everyone was laughing at her behavior. “Derek, can I have some ones for the claw machine?”</p><p>Derek chuckled before pulling out his wallet. Florence perked up and bounced on the heels of her feet. </p><p>“Here, even though you didn’t use a cute nickname to address me,” he said, handing her ten one-dollar bills. </p><p>“Thank you, Chocolate Thunder,” she said before running off. </p><p>Florence knew what she wanted as soon as she looked over. There was a stuffed Scrappy-Doo sitting near the top and in the middle with only a few other ones covering it up. She focused all her attention on the game, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get it. The claw would graze the toy but never fully pick it up. Florence was on her last dollar when she was interrupted. </p><p>“You know, you could probably get that Daffy Duck in the corner pretty easy.”</p><p>Florence looked over her shoulder in surprise and saw a boy around her age standing behind her. He had just come out of the bathroom and saw her cursing at the claw machine, so he came closer to investigate. He was dressed in a red flannel shirt and black jeans, which his hands were shoved into. Florence internally admitted that he was kind of cute, but she focused back on the claw machine.</p><p>“Maybe, but Daffy isn’t Scrappy-Doo. It’s Scrappy-Doo or nothing,” she told him.</p><p>“Might be kinda hard. He’s buried under that Marvin the Martian and Pink Panther. Maybe move the claw to the left a little.” Florence, with nothing more than a dollar to lose, took his advice. While the claw had the best grip it had gotten so far on it, Scrappy still stayed put. Florence and the boy sighed in sync. “Man, I’m sorry. I thought that would get him.”</p><p>“It’s alright,” she said, shrugging. “Wasn’t my money anyway. Thanks for trying to help, though.”</p><p>“So, I can assume you like Scooby-Doo,” he said, nodding towards the stuffed animal.</p><p>“Oh, at any point in time ever no matter what, I would always rather be watching Scooby-Doo and Scooby-Doo Two: Monsters unleashed,” she admitted.</p><p>The boy grinned brightly and laughed. “You’ve definitely got the right idea about life. But I have an important question.”</p><p>“What’s that?” Florence asked, smiling a little. She couldn’t help it — he had a nice smile.</p><p>“Which show is better: What’s New, Scooby-Doo or Scooby-Doo, Where Are You?”</p><p>“See now, while What’s New has an absolute banger of a theme song, I have to give it to Where Are You. I love the Mystery Incorporated series too.”</p><p>“A woman with taste,” he said, nodding his head. He was about to say something else, but Florence’s attention was drawn away.</p><p>“Hey, Ren,” Reid called. “Table’s ready.”</p><p>Florence smiled once more at the boy before following the team to the table. She did look back at him over her shoulder and saw him smiling at the ground. She also kicked herself for not asking him what his name was because it wasn’t every day she met cute boys who had strong opinions about Scooby-Doo.</p><p>There was a bit of an argument about what kinds of pizza they would order, but given that it was Florence’s birthday, they couldn’t deny her pineapple pizza — much to the displeasure of Rossi, Prentiss, and Derek (Hotch didn’t have an opinion on it). They also ordered a pepperoni and veggie pizza, so Florence didn’t see why they had to make such a big deal about it. </p><p>“Ooh, the band’s about to go on,” Garcia said excitedly after they had placed their orders.</p><p>Florence turned in her seat and leaned on the back of her chair to watch. She was very surprised to see the boy from the claw machine on stage with a bass guitar in his hand. He caught her eye and smiled at her. She smiled back and gave a little wave. There was also a blonde boy on the drums, a boy wearing a shirt with the sleeves cut off on another guitar, and a girl sitting at a keyboard. </p><p>“We are Sunset Curve,” the sleeveless shirt boy announced.</p><p>“Tell your friends,” the claw machine boy added, grinning.</p><p>The guy on the drums hit his sticks together while counting down before they started playing. Florence found herself nodding along to the pop-rock sound they had. They were clearly having fun, and the girl on the keyboard soon got up and hopped all over the stage as she sang. She looked back at the claw machine boy, who looked like he was having the time of his life. It wasn’t until he winked at her that Florence realized she had been watching him for the whole song. She rolled her eyes playfully before turning back around.</p><p>“They’re pretty good,” Morgan said, nodding his head to the beat. “A good choice, Garcia.”</p><p>“As if I ever make bad ones,” she said, grinning. Then she clapped her hands. “Alright, who wants to do presents while we wait for food?”</p><p><br/>“Garcia, it’s supposed to be cake first and then presents,” JJ reminded her. </p><p>Garcia pouted and leaned on Morgan’s shoulder. “Fine.”</p><p>They did eventually make it to cake and presents. Garcia had ordered a cake that was decorated to look like a Capri Sun, which delighted Florence to no end. Florence almost got on her hands and knees, begging them to not sing Happy Birthday out loud. But it was pointless. Once the band finished their set, Morgan grinned evilly. Suddenly he held her down while Prentiss strapped a pink party hat on Florence’s head. </p><p>She sat through a very loud and off-key rendition of Happy Birthday, unable to sink lower in her chair because Morgan was keeping her upright. They drew the attention of everyone in the restaurant as they did so. Florence kept her complaints to herself though, considering she was about to open presents from them. </p><p>“Me first,” Garcia said, sliding her gift bag across the table. Inside was a new pink laptop bag. There was also a night light shaped like a raccoon, which Florence sighed heavily at.</p><p>“Are you making fun of my fear of the dark and raccoons at the same time?” she asked, crossing her arms.</p><p>“You’re scared of raccoons?” JJ asked, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>“That's what you get for not telling me about your birthday,” Garcia said, smirking. </p><p>Morgan went next. He had gifted her a homemade calendar with pictures of him for every month.</p><p>“And you just have these lying around?” Florence asked, trying not to laugh. She could imagine him handing them out to ladies at a bar or something ridiculous like that.</p><p>Morgan smirked and wrapped an arm around her. “Just thought I’d give you something for you and Garcia to look at when you’re cooped up in your office. June is a particularly good month.”</p><p>Garcia snatched the calendar out of her hands and flipped through the months. Once she reached June, she grinned and showed off the shirtless picture of Morgan to the table.</p><p>“Any day that someone gets to see me shirtless is a good day,” he said, shamelessly.</p><p>Florence groaned to hide the fact that she was smiling. “Can you not be a Gemini for five seconds?”</p><p>After that, JJ gave her a box with two of the Harry Styles candles and a Target gift card in it — that was a much more practical gift than Morgan’s. Reid gave her a cooling pad for her laptop, which she had made a comment about needing a new one a few weeks ago. Rossi had bought her a nice pair of brown leather boots. They were shaped similarly to Dr. Martens, but they had some Italian logo on them.</p><p>“Ro-Ro, these are way too nice,” she said, eyeing the nice boots. Sure, she loved them, but that wasn’t the point.</p><p>“They’re not for you,” Rossi said, waving off her concerns. “They’re so that I never have to see you come to work in highlighter-yellow Crocs ever again.”</p><p>Everyone at the table snickered, while Florence playfully rolled her eyes. “Crocs are comfy.”</p><p>“Those will be comfy too,” he insisted. “Just, please. No more Crocs. You work for the FBI.”</p><p>Prentiss got Florence the ABBA’s greatest hits album on vinyl, along with a few new scrunchies. Hotch went last and he got her two things. The first was a nice, pink, fleece, blanket because she often complained about how cold her office was in order to keep the computers from overheating — she never stopped to consider keeping a blanket in there. The other was a book entitled “How to Be an Adult.”</p><p>“Thank you for all my presents,” Florence said while cutting off another piece of cake. “Even the slightly mean ones.”</p><p>“Well, thank you for letting us celebrate you,” JJ said sweetly. “Also, it was very nice to have a night off from changing diapers.”</p><p>“Oh, how is little baby Henry?” Garcia asked. JJ immediately started showing off pictures, which everyone loved.</p><p>Florence slipped away to go to the bathroom. Once she was done, she headed back to the table, shooting an angry glare at the Scrappy-Doo in the claw machine. Before she reached her table the same boy from before came up to her. </p><p>“Hi,” he greeted shyly.</p><p>“Hi,” she said back, smiling. “Um, you guys totally killed it up there. And I know you’re not the main singer, but you have a great voice too.”</p><p>“Oh, thanks,” he said. His cheeks heated up a little bit. “I um - my name is Reggie. I didn’t get to tell you earlier.”</p><p>“I’m Florence, but my friends call me Ren.”</p><p>“Ren. That’s a cool name. Like Kylo Ren.” </p><p>“That’s exactly how I think of it,” she said, grinning. </p><p>“Um, I just wanted to say happy birthday. I heard them singing to you,” he said. Then he dug through his backpack which was hanging off his shoulders. He pulled out a CD and a t-shirt with the Sunset Curve logo on it. “Thought I’d give you our demo and a free t-shirt — size beautiful.”</p><p>Florence chuckled as he flashed a goofy smile, and took the CD and shirt from him. “Do you use that line on every girl you give a free t-shirt to?”</p><p>“Nope, actually,” he said, laughing nervously. “Luke, our guitarist, said that line would work.”</p><p>“Did that line get Luke a girlfriend?”</p><p>“Uh, no. Not yet,” he said, shaking his head. </p><p>“Maybe find another line then, because I’d say you were doing pretty good until you threw it,” Florence admitted. “Scooby-Doo and Star Wars were better angles in my opinion.”</p><p>Reggie perked up. “I’ll keep that in mind.”</p><p>“I um, should probably get back to my table,” Florence said after noticing Prentiss watching them. “Thanks for the merch. I’d say you guys have a new fan.”</p><p>“Awesome,” he said. Before Florence could walk off, he asked her to wait while digging in his bag. He pulled out a folded up flyer and handed it to her. “We, uh, have another gig in two weeks at a park. You should come.”</p><p>Florence smiled at the invitation. “If I’m not working, I’ll try and swing by. It was nice meeting you, Reggie.”</p><p>“You too, Florence.”</p><p>Florence went back to her table and tried to fight off her smile so that the profilers at the table wouldn’t pick up on anything. If they even thought for a minute that she had a crush on someone, they would be unbearable. </p><p>“What’s got you so smiley?” Prentiss asked quietly, nudging Florence gently. </p><p>“I’m just having a really great birthday. Kinda makes me wish I had told you guys on the actual day,” she admitted. “It’s nice to have people care about you. I’m not used to it.”</p><p>“Well, get used to it, kiddo. You’re stuck with us for life now.”</p><p>Florence watched as Garcia tried to shove some cake on Morgan’s face while the others laughed at them.</p><p>“Sounds like a pretty good life.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. REGGIE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>"this may have been a mistake"</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>“Ren, what are you thinking so hard about?”</p>
<p>Florence blinked a few times before looking at Rossi and Prentiss, who were watching her. She had been sitting on top of Morgan’s desk and staring off at nothing, though she occasionally nodded her head. It was odd, so Prentiss couldn’t help but ask.</p>
<p>“Oh, I was just thinking about Barbie and the Twelve Dancing Princesses,” she replied, brushing some pink hair out of her face. </p>
<p>“Why are you thinking about a children’s movie?” Prentiss asked with a smile.</p>
<p>Florence narrowed her eyes. “As opposed to what? Homicide?”</p>
<p>Rossi chuckled and shook his head. “She has a point, Emily.”</p>
<p>As Florence started an in-depth analysis of her favorite Barbie movie, Todd quickly brushed past them and into Hotch’s office. They were sure that meant there was a new case, and their suspicions were confirmed moments later when Hotch and Todd entered the bullpen.</p>
<p>“Dave,” Hotch called to get his attention.</p>
<p>“What's going on?”</p>
<p>“We got a missing ten-year-old girl, home invasion. Parents were killed in their sleep.”</p>
<p>“Where's our clock?”</p>
<p>“Eight hours and counting,” Hotch replied.</p>
<p>“I'll find Morgan and Reid and tell them we're on the move,” Prentiss said, running off.</p>
<p>Florence hopped off of Morgan’s desk. “Garcia and I will start looking into the family.”</p>
<p>“Good. Wheels-up in thirty.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>The kidnapping case was certainly odd. After searching the house and also speaking to the father of Cate, the girl who was taken, there wasn’t much to go on. But things took a turn when Cate turned up, alive and on the side of the hallway. While Prentiss interviewed her, Hotch called Florence and Garcia with a task.</p>
<p>“Garcia.”</p>
<p>“Oh, captain, my captain,” she greeted.</p>
<p>“I need a list of crimes involving partners within a ninety-mile radius of Harvest in the last two years.”</p>
<p>“<em>All</em> crimes?” Florence asked, frowning. That was gonna be a long list if so.</p>
<p>“Anything,” Hotch specified. “Violent crimes, break-ins, whatever's in the system. I need to be able to show Cate some mugshots.”</p>
<p>“You got it. One scumbag yearbook coming up,” Garcia said before hanging up. Then she turned to Florence. “You take this year and I’ll take the last.”</p>
<p>Once they compiled the list and sent mugshots to Hotch, they went back and focused on crimes similar to the current case. Unfortunately, there were no matching crimes. At least Cate had been returned, which means they only had to focus on finding the kidnappers. Soon, they got a call from Morgan.</p>
<p>“Hey, Baby Girl, we need to talk.”</p>
<p>“PG or NC-17?” she asked, smirking. Florence poked a finger in her throat and faked a gag, which made Garcia laugh.</p>
<p>“You're on speakerphone,” Morgan said as if that would stop her behavior.</p>
<p>“I charge extra for groups.”</p>
<p>“We need you to run through crimes similar to the hale murders in the last two years,” Rossi said.</p>
<p>“Already did that, Ro-Ro,” Florence said, leaning back in her chair. “Got nothing.”</p>
<p>“Go back even further, Ren,” Reid said. “Cross-reference against any small towns that have had reports of petty theft associated with waves of Romany populations entering the area.”</p>
<p>“Romany?” Garcia asked.</p>
<p>“Gypsies,” Rossi specified.</p>
<p>“As in "Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves"?” Garcia asked, grinning.</p>
<p>“Exactly,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>“Oh, bless you all for turning my life into a Cher song. You’ll have it nearly immediately,” she told them.</p>
<p>“You're the best,” Derek said before hanging up.</p>
<p>“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever listened to a Cher song,” Florence admitted. </p>
<p>Garcia paused her typing and looked at Florence with her mouth open. “She’s a living legend, Ren. How the hell have you never heard one of her songs?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “None come to mind.”</p>
<p>“Once this case is over, I’m tying you to a chair and making you listen to her entire discography,” Garcia stated before getting back to work. She mumbled under her breath about how unbelievable it all was before eventually letting it go. </p>
<p>Working together, they managed to find a ton of similar cases matching the current one. Each time Garcia found a new city, Florence would put it up on their map. There were a hundred years' worth of cases, and if they went back farther, Florence was sure they’d find more. Garcia called Morgan, who then got the rest of the team, who were presenting the profile, on the line.</p>
<p>“Garcia, you still there?” Morgan asked once he was back with everyone. </p>
<p>“Present,” she chimed. </p>
<p>“Explain what you got.”</p>
<p>“Ok, we went ahead and went further back looking for similar cases and we made the search national,” she explained.</p>
<p>“All these are hits?” Rossi asked. He was looking over the case files that Garcia had faxed over.</p>
<p>“Yeah. There's thirty of them. They go as far back as 1909,” she said. “Rapid City, South Dakota, Taos, New Mexico, Gary, Indiana. My map is lit up like a Christmas tree.”</p>
<p>“All these girls were abducted and had their parents killed?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“The time between the kills was long enough and the regions of the country so spread out that it never showed up as serial,” Reid stated.</p>
<p>“What the hell is this?” Rossi asked, confused by all the new details in the case. </p>
<p>“I don't know, but it looks like it's been going on for generations,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>The next morning, it was discovered that another little girl had been taken. Her name was Lynn Robillard and her parents had been killed just like Cate’s. By following the trail of missing girls, Garcia was able to guess that the latest one, Kathy Gray, must have helped kidnap Lynn.</p>
<p>“A working theory from 1971 was that a transient killed the family and abducted Kathy Gray. Then all the leads went cold.”</p>
<p>“How do you watch your family get murdered and then make a life with the people who did it?” Todd asked over the line.</p>
<p>“It's Stockholm syndrome,” Rossi said. “You adapt or die.”</p>
<p>"Like the One Direction song," Florence mumbled under her breath so no one would hear.</p>
<p>“And now she's training her son to be a murderer,” Prentiss added.</p>
<p>“At a certain point, once traditions are handed down generation after generation, there is no right or wrong,” Hotch said. “You simply accept the way the world works.”</p>
<p>“The Romany are a closed society. The unsub simply twisted and distorted traditions to become entirely insular,” Reid said.</p>
<p>“Abducting the children keeps the bloodline pure, and killing the parents ensures that people eventually stop looking for them,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>There was a knock on the door and the Sheriff came into the room. “We got a report of an RV on fire about twenty miles from here.”</p>
<p>“Dave, you, Reid, and Morgan go check it out,” Hotch ordered. “Garcia, I need you to digitally alter Kathy Gray's photograph to simulate what she would look like today.”</p>
<p>“Consider it simulated.”</p>
<p>Florence stood over Garcia’s shoulder to watch as the computer created the new face. Once it was finished, they got it back to the team where her photo would be posted all over. Oddly enough, the next day, Kathy was caught shoplifting in a mall. It was likely staged so that the husband and their son could get away with Lynn.</p>
<p>Eventually, they managed to get Kathy to talk. They had shown her pictures of her dead parents to get some emotion out of her. Once she revealed the location where they were keeping Lynn, the team managed to save her. Despite that, it wasn’t a truly happy ending. Apparently, there were more of them out there who practiced the same tradition of kidnapping child brides. </p>
<p>“Okay,” Garcia said, spinning in her chair to face Florence once they got word that the team was heading home. “Time for Cher.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>That Friday at six, Prentiss, who was the only one in the bullpen at the time, saw Florence rushing to the elevator to leave for the day. Thinking it was a bit odd, Prentiss got up and called her over. Florence looked a bit nervous as she made her way over to her with her hands clutched in front of her.</p>
<p>“Yes, Emily?” she asked.</p>
<p>“Why are you rushing out of here?” she asked. </p>
<p>“Oh, I just finished all my paperwork and thought I’d leave early,” she replied, trying to sound casual. “Is that all, or?”</p>
<p>Prentiss smirked and crossed her arms. “Interesting. When you finish your paperwork, you usually come around and bother one of us. You always wait until we get to go home and walk down with someone.”</p>
<p>“Well, maybe I just wanted an early start to the weekend.”</p>
<p>“Mhmm,” she hummed, looking Florence up and down. “So who’s the guy?”</p>
<p>Florence rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Th — there’s not a guy. Why can’t I just want to go home early?”</p>
<p>“You’re really gonna make me do this?” Prentiss asked, grinning. “You’re gonna make me profile you?”</p>
<p>Florence stood her ground and raised an eyebrow. “There’s nothing to profile.”</p>
<p>“Well, for starters, you’ve brushed your hair instead of wearing it in a messy ponytail,” Prentiss pointed out.</p>
<p>Florence tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and narrowed her eyes. “Just because I washed my hair today doesn’t mean there’s a guy.”</p>
<p>“Is that lipstick?”</p>
<p>“Tinted chapstick,” she mumbled, looking at her feet. </p>
<p>Prentiss smirked and crossed her arms. “Would you like me to go on? Because there are other tells. I've barely scratched the surface.”</p>
<p>Florence sighed heavily. “No.”</p>
<p>“So, tell me about him.”</p>
<p>“You know, it could be a girl. I’m bisexual.”</p>
<p>Prentiss chuckled. “All right, tell me about <em>them</em>.”</p>
<p>She paused for a moment before giving in. “It’s that bass player from the band at the pizza place. It’s not a date or anything. Reggie just invited me to their gig in the park tonight. They’re playing some art festival.”</p>
<p>“Ooh, a musician,” Prentiss said, grinning and putting an arm around her. “Little Florence is growing up.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure he invited a bunch of girls to come. That’s how bands build a fanbase,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.</p>
<p>“Are you wearing the t-shirt he gave you under that?” Prentiss nodded to the red hoodie that Florence had been wearing all day. She nodded before unzipping the hoodie and taking it off. “Wow. You tye-dyed it and turned it into a crop top. You really like him.”</p>
<p>“I do not like him. I barely know him,” she said defensively. “He’s just… really cute and kinda goofy.”</p>
<p>“Would you say yes if he asked you on a date?”</p>
<p>“Perhaps,” Florence mumbled. “But like I said — I’m just going to see the show. We aren’t like hanging out after or anything.”</p>
<p>“Okay, but what if he does ask you to hang out after?” Prentiss asked. “Maybe he’ll want to walk around the art fest with you. Wait, what are you going to do if he tries to hold your hand?”</p>
<p>“Okay, now you’re making fun of me,” she said, rolling her eyes.</p>
<p>“Only a little bit.”</p>
<p>“Are you done? I’m running a little behind already.”</p>
<p>“Fine, I’ll let you go. Have fun,” she said, grinning. “But I expect to hear all about this date on Monday.”</p>
<p>“Not a date,” Florence insisted while walking backwards towards the elevator. “And please keep it to yourself. Morgan would be absolutely unbearable if he found out I have a crush on someone.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m not that cruel.”</p>
<p>As soon as Florence was in the elevator and the doors closed, Prentiss smirked to herself. She suddenly had a concert she needed to be at.</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>“She’s not coming, bro.”</p>
<p>“Luke, stop. She could still show up.”</p>
<p>“I think she just wasn’t that into you.”</p>
<p>“Maybe she’s just late.”</p>
<p>“You probably said the “size beautiful” pickup-line wrong.”</p>
<p>The members of Sunset Curve were getting ready to go on stage at the art festival. Every few seconds, Reggie couldn’t help but peek out at the medium-sized crowd and look for Florence. Each time when he didn't see her pink hair, his mood dropped. Their lead singer, Julie, and their drummer, Alex, did their best to cheer him up, but Luke kept picking on him.</p>
<p>“This is what you get for only inviting one girl to our gig,” Luke said, shaking his head. “If we each only told one person about our gigs, there’d only be four people and Julie’s dad in our audience.”</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Reggie said, sighing. “But she was so pretty and she likes Scrappy-Doo. I’ve never met another person who loves his character.”</p>
<p>“That’s because both of you have bad taste,” Julie couldn’t help but mumble while laughing. “Reg, maybe she’s busy. If she shows, then she shows.”</p>
<p>Reggie checked the crowd once more, and she still wasn’t there. He turned back to his friends and pouted. Alex clapped him on the back. “Dude, cheer up. We’ll keep an eye out during the set, but if she doesn’t come, at least there are other hot girls in the crowd.”</p>
<p>“You’re gay,” Reggie said, scoffing.</p>
<p>Alex put his hand to his chest in mock hurt. “I can still appreciate their beauty.”</p>
<p>Luke wrapped an arm around Reggie’s shoulder. “Dude, if she didn’t think you were cute then it’s her loss. You're adorable and you shred on bass, so perk up and get ready to rock.”</p>
<p>“You think I’m adorable?” Reggie asked, grinning.</p>
<p>Luke playfully rolled his eyes. “The adorablest—”</p>
<p>“I don’t think that’s a real word,” Julie interrupted.</p>
<p>“Well, I write all our songs and I say it’s a real word,” Luke shot back, smirking. “Alright, let’s get out there.”</p>
<p>The audience cheered when they ran out on stage. Alex hit his drumsticks to count them down, and Luke began the starting notes. They opened with their song Now or Never, which was upbeat and got the crowd into it. When the second chorus hit, Julie spotted someone with pink hair skateboarding towards their stage. She excitedly hopped across the stage over to Reggie. While they shared her microphone, she tried to subtly nod in Florence’s direction.</p>
<p>When Reggie saw Florence, he grinned and got noticeably happier. Once she got off the skateboard, Florence began to snake her way through the crowd until she was close to the front. He saw her singing the lyrics, which told him she had listened to their demo enough times to learn all the words. Reggie wanted to wave at her, but given that he was holding his guitar, he settled on winking at her.</p>
<p>Sunset Curve played the rest of their songs and a few covers of other people’s songs before they finished their set. </p>
<p>“Thank you,” Luke said as the crowd cheered for them. “We are Sunset Curve.”</p>
<p>“Tell your friends,” Reggie added, grinning.</p>
<p>Once they were gone, an attendant got on stage and announced a fifteen-minute break between them and the next band scheduled to play. Florence didn’t really have any interest in whoever was coming on next, so she made her way out of the crowd. She awkwardly hung around a couple of yards out from the stage, wondering if she should try and find Reggie to talk to him or let it go and go walk around the artists' booths on her own. The latter option would probably save her from any potential embarrassment. </p>
<p>Just when she was about to hop on her board and skate towards the booths, her name was called.</p>
<p>“Hey, Ren!” Reggie yelled while running over to her. He had a big smile on his face when he looked at her, and he was still flushed and sweaty from his performance. “Hey, you um, made it. Awesome.”</p>
<p>"Yeah, you guys were great,” she said. “I got here kinda late, not that you noticed—”</p>
<p>“I did, uh, notice,” he muttered shyly. “I was kind of watching the crowd to see if you were here.”</p>
<p>Both of their cheeks went red as he admitted to looking for her. “Oh,” Florence said, trying to hide her smile. “Sorry I was late. Got held up at work.”</p>
<p>“Well, I’m glad you got off in time,” he said. Then he glanced over his shoulder and looked behind the stage. “Do you wanna meet my friends?”</p>
<p>Florence nodded and he led her to the rest of Sunset Curve. They were finishing putting up their equipment. </p>
<p>“Ren, this is Luke, Alex, and Julie,” he introduced. Each of them waved when their name was called. “Guys, this is Ren from the pizza place.”</p>
<p>“Ah, the birthday girl that Reggie hasn’t shut up about,” Luke said, grinning.</p>
<p>“<em>Dude</em>,” Reggie hissed while blushing. </p>
<p>“I totally love what you did with the shirt,” Julie said, trying to change the subject for Reggie’s sake. “Like, I immediately want to go home and do it to one of mine.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” she said, smiling. “I always have stuff for tye-dye on hand. Also, you have a killer voice, Julie.”</p>
<p>“She is amazing, isn’t she,” Luke said, slinging an arm around her. “I’m so glad we let her join the band two months ago.”</p>
<p>“Let her?” Alex asked, scoffing. “Dude, you practically begged on your hands and knees for her to join when you heard her voice.”</p>
<p>Luke scoffed and tried to play it cool, while his friends laughed. “So uh, Ren, after we load our instruments, we were gonna walk around and look at the art. Wanna come with? I’m sure Reggie would love the attention.”</p>
<p>Florence glanced at Reggie, who was still blushing and looking at the ground. “You don’t have to if you don't want to,” he mumbled. Then he glanced at her shyly. “I certainly wouldn’t complain if you did.”</p>
<p>Florence smiled and nodded. “Um, yeah. I’d love to come with you guys.”</p>
<p>“Cool,” Reggie said, grinning. “Cool, cool, cool. Awesome.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>“Wait, why are we hiding in the car outside of this art festival? I’d much rather go walk around,” Garcia said. “And ya know, look at the art.”</p>
<p>“Because,” Prentiss said, finally spotting the target. “That is why.”</p>
<p>After Florence had left work, Prentiss immediately hunted down Garcia, who had been talking to Reid in her office. She grabbed the two of them with little explanation and dragged them all the way to the park. She had also handed each of them a pair of binoculars that were typically used for stakeouts. It took her a minute to find her in the crowd, but eventually, Prentiss spotted the pink hair. Garcia and Reid followed her line of sight and saw her too.</p>
<p>“Is that Ren?” Reid asked, focusing in on her.</p>
<p>“With a boy?” Garcia squealed excitedly. “Are they on a date? He’s holding her skateboard for her! That’s so cute.”</p>
<p>“She said it wasn’t a date,” Prentiss said, smirking. “Technically, I think they’re with the three other people walking in front of them.”</p>
<p>“Should we be spying on them?” Reid asked though he didn’t stop watching. </p>
<p>“We aren’t spying. We’re just… making sure he isn’t dangerous,” Prentiss said. The justification was partly true. While on one hand, yes, she was just nosy. But on the other hand, they had just finished a kidnapping case and she was a little on edge about Florence going out at night and meeting with a stranger. “Also, I promised her that I wouldn’t tell anyone about this, so keep it to yourselves. Garcia, no telling Morgan.”</p>
<p>Garcia’s jaw dropped. “How in the world do you expect me to keep this from him? I tell him everything.”</p>
<p>“This may have been a mistake,” Prentiss admitted. “Oh well. Garcia, you brought your laptop, right? Look into this kid. The band’s name is Sunset Curve and his name is Reggie. That’s all I’ve got.”</p>
<p>Garcia whipped out her laptop and got to work while Reid and Prentiss went back to watching.</p>
<p>“Both of their body languages suggest that they are nervous,” Reid pointed out, adjusting his binoculars. “They glance at each other, make eye contact, and then look away. He is carrying her skateboard in order to be chivalrous. He’d likely offer to carry her backpack too if he weren’t wearing his own.”</p>
<p>“I found him!” Garcia said excitedly. “Reginald Shada is nineteen years old. He graduated from Potomac High School and is taking online college courses in Music Production. He’s been in the band for three years, but it’s only just now started booking solid gigs in the last few months after they got a new lead singer. All his social media is set to public so he’s not hiding anything. Good grades, no record, nothing suspicious.”</p>
<p>Reid looked away from Florence and at Garcia when she began laughing. “What?”</p>
<p>“There’s a YouTube video from last year of him sitting in a baby swing at a playground. He got stuck and his friends had to call the fire department to cut him out of it,” she said, still laughing. “Now, that is what the phrase “boys will be boys” should be used for.”</p>
<p>“Getting stuck in a baby swing sounds like something Florence would do,” Prentiss said, chuckling. “Hmm, I think he’s taking something out of his backpack.”</p>
<p>Garcia and Reid quickly picked up their binoculars to watch. Florence and Reggie had stopped and sat at a bench while his friends walked on without them. There was nothing suspicious about it, but they couldn’t help but be on edge from their job. Deep down, they knew the boy wasn’t going to pull out a weapon, but they had to be careful.</p>
<p>“Wait a minute,” Garcia mumbled, narrowing her eyes to try and see clearer. “Is that what I think it is?”</p>
<p>“That’s the Scrappy-Doo she wasted all of Morgan’s money on trying to win,” Reid stated. “Hmm, he must have gotten it after we left.”</p>
<p>“That’s so cute,” Garcia said, melting. “I would give anything to hear what they were saying.”</p>
<p>When Reggie presented it to Florence, her face lit up. She took the stuffed animal and hugged it tightly while smiling up at Reggie. She started talking adamantly, and he listed with a grin, occasionally laughing at the things she said. </p>
<p>“And she said he probably didn’t like her,” Prentiss said, smirking. “Oh, I am getting all the details on Monday.”</p>
<p>“So, do we stay and keep watching them or leave and respect their privacy?” Reid asked. </p>
<p>“We’re staying,” Prentiss said, firmly. “But it’s not because we don’t respect her privacy. We’re just making sure she gets home safe, even though he seems harmless.”</p>
<p>“We should’ve brought snacks then,” Garcia said. “Hey, Emily, wanna see the swing video?”</p>
<p>“Oh, absolutely.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. LEAVE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>“i don’t think you can prove that”</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>Despite Prentiss’ best efforts, she never did get Florence to spill about her time with Reggie. Every time she thought she had her cornered, Florence would always annoy her way out of questioning. Once, she started singing every song from the Twilight soundtrack in order, and another time she just stared off into space. Absolutely no one in the office could get her to break her concentration. Later, Anderson got her to admit that she was watching Shrek in her head. Florence was going to remain tight-lipped about Reggie until she decided to share.</p><p>However, she had finally gotten her friendship bracelet, which was made of purple colored thread. Prentiss sauntered around the bullpen, flaunting it on her wrist that day. Everyone did their best to rub it in Hotch’s face now that he was the only one without one, but he remained unbothered. </p><p>In even better news, JJ had returned to the BAU, ending her maternity leave early. Agent Todd left, deciding that the work they did was a bit too intense for her. Now that she was back, JJ was showing off pictures of Henry left and right. That was what she was doing now — standing in Garcia and Florence’s office with Morgan and showing off the baby.</p><p>“This is Henry wearing the booties my mom knitted him.”</p><p>“I can't get over his cuteness,” Garcia said, grinning.</p><p>“Oh, and this is him wearing the customized leather jacket Auntie Penelope got him.” </p><p>“When he grows up, he's gonna be a rebel,” Garcia said, making the others laugh.</p><p>JJ flipped to the next picture and Florence grinned. “And here is Henry holding the Nerf gun that’s two times bigger than him that his Auntie Florence gave him.” </p><p>“I knew he’d love it,” Florence said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I give perfect gifts.”</p><p>“I think Will would agree,” JJ said, smiling. “He uses it any time he wants my attention.”</p><p>Garcia’s phone rang and Garcia quickly answered it. “Is this David Rossi? The famous bestselling author David Rossi?”</p><p>“What are you doing?” Morgan asked him. “You're not supposed to be calling when you’re on annual leave.”</p><p>“I think my AL just ended,” Rossi told them.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Morgan asked.</p><p>“Garcia, Cleveland police is sending you some files. Get JJ to distribute them to the team right away.”</p><p>“Yeah. What are we looking at?”</p><p>“I don't know yet. Just see if the team can find a connection with these crimes. I'll call you back in a few hours.”</p><p>“Yes, sir.” Garcia quickly worked on getting the files and printing them off for distribution. </p><p>“What’s that thing he said? What’s annual leave?” Florence asked, grabbing a Capri Sun.</p><p>Morgan and JJ shared a surprised look. “Annual leave is paid time off work granted by employers. You get so many each year and can use it for whatever you want,” JJ explained.</p><p>“Given that you haven’t been here a full year, I’d say you have about ten days of annual leave and they’re also required to give you thirteen paid sick days,” Morgan added.</p><p>“Wait,” Florence said, standing up. “Wait, wait, wait. So you’re telling me that I can get paid to go on vacation and have been able to do that this whole time?”</p><p>“That’s exactly what we’re saying,” Morgan said, chuckling. </p><p>“Then why am I here with you all in this room when I could be on the island where they filmed Mamma Mia?”</p><p>Garcia sighed and shook her head. “Baby, I ask myself that question every day.”</p><p>
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</p><p>Once everything was ready and everyone was in the briefing room, they called Rossi and began going over the case. Rossi had immediately gotten Florence to gain remote access to Zoe’s laptop so they could go through it.</p><p>“The crimes are within a seven-mile radius,” JJ stated.</p><p>“Well, that's something,” Morgan said.</p><p>“Yeah, but the neighborhoods are all completely different,” Prentiss said. “They range from poor to rich, industrial to residential.”</p><p>“The physical locations are dissimilar, but the operating zone's well-defined,” Hotch added.</p><p>“I’m in,” Florence announced as she looked at Zoe’s computer. Garcia moved her chair closer to look.</p><p>“I see you,” Rossi said. He watched as Florence moved the mouse on both screens.</p><p>“Opening your web browser for search history,” Florence explained. It automatically opened on a newspaper’s website with the daily crime column bookmarked. “Check out her home page.”</p><p>“All right, so the first thing she looks at when she opens her computer is a crime column,” Prentiss said.</p><p>“Probably to stay current on her studies,” Morgan guessed.</p><p>“Can you see what she worked on last?” Rossi asked.</p><p>Florence easily exited the browser and pulled up the last few documents and files she edited. “You got it, Ro-Ro. These are the most recently opened documents she created.”</p><p>Reid leaned over and studied the screen. “Looks like she was compiling empirical data about homicide trends in Cleveland.”</p><p>“Do you think she knew the killer?” Prentiss asked.</p><p>“I don't see any notes indicating suspects,” Rossi said, going through her room.</p><p>“Well, Dave, she's a criminology student,” Hotch reminded him. “She's been taught to analyze statistics and apply theory, not investigate killers. Let's talk about what we know.”</p><p>“All right. Victim one, Travis Bartlett was last seen at a gay bar. He was shot at night in a park. Victim two, Lily Nicks, a thirty-four-year-old prostitute. Her throat was slashed. Victims three and four, June Appleby and Troy Wertsler, were shot in their car at a parking lot outside of a movie theater. And victim five was a twenty-eight-year-old single woman, Kayla James, killed in her home. She was bound, suffocated with a bag over her head, evidence of rape.”</p><p>“And then the sixth victim was Zoe,” Prentiss added.</p><p>“Victimology, weapons used, and COD are all different,” Reid noted. “It's hard to imagine it's even the same unsub.”</p><p>“It can't be a coincidence that Zoe goes to Kayla James' house and gets murdered,” Rossi said.</p><p>“All right, let's say it is the same killer. Does anybody see a pattern?” Hotch asked.</p><p>“Well, maybe. Ok, the first crime, he shoots the victim,” Prentiss said. “The second crime, he rapes a woman and slashes her throat. That's more personal. And the third crime, he escalates to killing two people, And the fourth, he escalates even more by raping a woman, binding her, and suffocating her.”</p><p>“So if it is the same unsub, you could argue that there's a progression of violence with every kill,” Hotch said.</p><p>“It could be an anger excitation offender getting more daring with each crime,” Reid added.</p><p>“I think I got something here,” Morgan told them, holding up the pictures. “Look at this. The slashes in the prostitute's throat. They're all shallow, unsure cuts. The Kayla James crime scene — telephone cord, rope, and duct tape were used. It's like he couldn't decide how to bind her.”</p><p>“So without a gun, he's sloppy, inexperienced.”</p><p>“The young couple shot in the car... That crime scene remind you of anything?” Morgan asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” Reid said. “They were shot with a .44 bulldog, just like the Son of Sam used on his victims, which were also young couples in parked cars. It might be nothing, but you're right, there is a parallel there.”</p><p>“With the second victim, it's hard not to think of Jack the Ripper,” Prentiss added. “The obvious similarity being it's a prostitute whose throat was slashed.”</p><p>“Kayla James was bound, tortured, raped, with a plastic bag over her head like BTK,” Hotch added.</p><p>“What about victim number one?”</p><p>“Garcia, what neighborhood was he found in?” Rossi asked.</p><p>Garcia looked at Zoe’s charts. “At a park in the Kingsbury Run area.”</p><p>“Zoe reminded me last night that Cleveland's most famous serial killer was the Butcher of Kingsbury Run,” Rossi told them. “He found his victims in gay bars, shot them, and dumped their body there. Travis Bartlett was last seen at a gay bar, and his body was found in Kingsbury park.”</p><p>“So these are copycats of famous serial killers,” JJ stated.</p><p>“He's a serial killer studying serial killers,” Rossi said, surprised by how this was turning out. This was definitely a case worth the BAU’s time.</p><p>“See you in Cleveland, Dave,” Hotch said before hanging up. “Wheels up in twenty.”</p><p>
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</p><p>The team worked as quickly as they could once they got to Ohio. As usual, another body soon turned up. The unsub had strangled a homeless woman with a garrote. Despite that, there was some good news. They had managed to get DNA off of Zoe’s body. The unsub, whose name was Eric Olson, had kissed her forehead after murdering her. Garcia dialed Rossi up to deliver the information.</p><p>“Garcia, you got something?”</p><p>“Yeah, the boys in the lab found trace amounts of saliva on Zoe's forehead, enough for a DNA sample. So we got a CODIS match on Eric Ryan Olson, twenty-three, Cleveland native. Did two and a half years for attempted sexual assault and was paroled six months ago.”</p><p>“We thought for sure he'd be a student,” Rossi muttered.</p><p>“Uh, that's 'cause he was,” Garcia said. “While he was in the slammer, he took independent correspondence classes in forensic science and criminology from an out-of-state school.”</p><p>“Call the team. Let's get a search warrant.”</p><p>Once the team was notified, they got to Olsen’s apartment as quickly as they could. While he wasn’t there, they found out that he was going to a nearby bar. Again, he wasn’t there, but the bartender told them he had left recently. They found him, and his girlfriend, in a nearby park about to have sex. Once they got him in custody, he soon confessed and they were able to close the case.</p><p>
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</p><p>Florence ate her lunch in the briefing room with Rossi, JJ, Morgan, and Reid, who were the only ones in the bullpen at the time. </p><p>“So, Ren, did you ever decide how you’re going to use that annual leave now that you know about it?” JJ asked, smiling. “You could go back to Seattle for a few days.”</p><p>Florence shrugged. “I don’t really have any close friends out there. If I took a vacation, I’d want to go somewhere new.”</p><p>“What about your old roommate? The one with the boyfriend who dared you to hack into the Pentagon?” Reid asked. “Would you like to see her?”</p><p>“Eh. We weren’t the closest. We still send each other memes when they make us think of each other, but that’s about it.”</p><p>“How did you become roommates if you weren’t friends?” Rossi asked.</p><p>“Well, actually there were only two months in between me aging out of my group home and being relocated here. Jess offered to let me sleep on her couch in exchange for free wifi,” she explained.</p><p>“Free wifi?” Rossi questioned. </p><p>“Yeah. Her neighbors paid for it. I just borrowed it.”</p><p>Morgan sighed and rubbed his head. “So you stole the neighbor's wifi?”</p><p>“Borrowed. Stole. Same thing. Got me a couch to crash on when I needed it,” Florence said, shoving a handful of chips in her face.</p><p>“That ethics class was three hours of yours and Hotch’s lives that you’re just not gonna get back, wasn’t it?” Rossi asked, shaking his head. </p><p>Florence nodded her head while chewing her lunch. After she swallowed, she licked the salt off her fingers. “Sorry you had to cancel your book thing, Ro-Ro.”</p><p>He waved her off. “I’m glad I decided to cancel it. The book’s not that interesting anyway.” </p><p>“I mean, yeah, but I guess some people like your writing.”</p><p>“Ren, have you ever even read one of Rossi’s books?” Reid asked. </p><p>Florence scoffed and sipped her Capri Sun. “Bold of you to assume I know how to read.”</p><p>Rossi, Morgan, and JJ chuckled while Reid studied her. “Florence, I’ve seen you read.”</p><p>“I don’t think you can prove that.”</p><p>“You were complaining about the inaccuracies of Elvish mating customs in the Legolas fanfiction you’ve been reading just this morning,” Reid said, crossing his arms. </p><p>Morgan snorted. “I bet your browser history is just a really fun time.”</p><p>“I mean, I’ve definitely been put on some government lists.”</p><p>
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</p><p>Florence spent the majority of their next case sulking. There was some prostitute killing wealthy businessmen. There were so many lawyers involved in the investigation that it made asking questions and getting straight answers difficult.</p><p>Florence had told Hotch right away that if he gave her permission to use her less-than-legal methods, she could likely narrow down the suspects and find the unsub in a day. That was how confident in her skills she was — Hotch was confident too. The problem was all the lawyers. He made it very clear that Garcia was to keep Florence on a very tight leash during this case. The lawyers involved wouldn’t hesitate to get her fired if they found out she had hacked into their databases to find out everything she could about their clients. </p><p>So Florence sat in her desk chair, mumbling about how much she hated lawyers and internet privacy laws while Garcia did most of the heavy lifting. They were currently on a call with Reid, Prentiss, JJ, and Hotch as they looked over countless records for the last victim.</p><p>“Eighteen cars, six houses, and three boats. Can you even boat in Dallas?” Reid asked.</p><p>“You know, when you're talking about that much money, ten grand for a call girl is like deciding where to go for dinner,” Prentiss said.</p><p>“Are you there, Garcia? Florence?”</p><p>“Affirmative.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Florence grumbled.</p><p>“I have half a million over here for something called the Bat Cave,” JJ said. “And here's a picture of him as fetish Batman. That is wrong.”</p><p>“Is there anything this guy didn't like to spend money on?” Reid asked.</p><p>“Yeah, his ex-Wives. Fielding was married four times. He didn't have prenups the first two, but he did everything he could to cut off his ex-wives.”</p><p>“Are there children involved?” Prentiss asked.</p><p>“Yes, with three of the wives. Hoyt Ashford was married a few times, too, wasn't he?” Hotch asked.</p><p>“You know, considering that when Kevin takes me to dinner and a movie, he defaults on his student loans, this amount of money is sick,” Garcia said.</p><p>“What did you find?” Prentiss asked.</p><p>“Well, all three of our dearly departed rich guys were embroiled in bitter court battles over how much to pay in alimony and child support. And even when the court ruled in the wife's favor, which was almost always, these three charmers just, you know, decided not to pay,” Garcia explained.</p><p>“Garcia, can you generate a list of high-profile Dallas CEOs who are holding out on their ex-wives?” Hotch asked.</p><p>“One loaded losers list, Dallas edition, comin' at ya.”</p><p>Florence sighed and rolled over to help her. “Ya know if I could just—”</p><p>“No, Florence,” Hotch cut her off. “You’d be fired immediately and there’s no doubt in my mind that Strauss would still like for you to be in jail for the Pentagon incident. We need you on this team, so don’t even think about it.”</p><p>Once Hotch hung up, Florence pouted but helped Garcia compile the list. She understood, really. But it didn’t make the situation less annoying. Sometimes, unethical means of attainment were useful. </p><p>Eventually, they got an address from a lawyer for a penthouse Fielding paid for. It was used by the unsub and the team rushed to check it. While she wasn’t there, she still knew that the FBI had found it. The house received a call and they had asked Garcia to trace the call. All of them were completely confused when the unsub herself called.</p><p>“Aaron. I know you're up there. Pick up. Aaron Hotchner.”</p><p>Florence shared a surprised look with Garcia as Hotch picked up. “Hello? I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don't know yours. Can we start there?”</p><p>“I thought I could trust you, Aaron,” the female replied. </p><p>“Who says you can't?”</p><p>“I want to. I even looked you up online. Is that strange?”</p><p>“No. It's flattering to be noticed by a woman like you.”</p><p>“And I thought you were so... upstanding. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings. I found it posted on YouTube. And for a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world.”</p><p>“But I've disappointed you, haven't I? Just like all the other men in your life who've walked out on their families, who deserve to be punished.”</p><p>“Did you walk out on your family?” Florence bit her lip as the unsub began to pick at Hotch’s personal life.</p><p>“No. My wife left me.”</p><p>“Do you have kids?”</p><p>“I have a son.”</p><p>“How often do you see him?”</p><p>“I try to see him every week.”</p><p>She scoffed. “Do you see him every week?”</p><p>“No, I don't get there as often as I want.”</p><p>“I believe you, but don't compare yourself to the men I see. You are nothing like them. You're just another whore.”</p><p>“How am I a whore?”</p><p>It was a serious situation, Florence knew. She had to try her absolute hardest to not laugh out loud at Hotch being called a whore. She internalized her amusement and told herself she could poke fun at him later.</p><p>Hotch’s conversation with the unsub went on quite a while longer, but even then, it wasn’t enough. Because the trap-and-trace wasn’t already set up when she called, Garcia couldn’t trace the call before they heard gunshots. She had shot someone, and it wasn’t until the unsub hung up that Garcia finally managed to find where the call was coming from. She was gone before emergency responders hit the scene.</p><p>Eventually, they managed to get a name. Megan Kane was the unsub and it took some time to track her down. Her father found out what she was doing and tried to help cover everything up, which was what made Megan start killing in the first place. It was a whole family drama mess that ended horribly. Instead of going to jail, Megan decided to kill herself by taking the same poison she used on her other victims. </p><p>It was an unfortunate ending, as well as an annoying one. It had Florence itching to do something reckless with her skills, but she held back. This job meant more to her than the fun she used to have doing sketchy things on the internet. </p><p>Once the team returned to Quantico, Florence greeted them at the elevator with a big smile. She walked next to Hotch to the bullpen with her arms clutched behind her back. She opened her mouth to speak, but Hotch put up a hand to cut her off.</p><p>“If you even think about calling me a whore, you’ll be suspended without pay for two weeks.”</p><p>Florence’s mood instantly deflated while the others laughed. That had been her exact plan. </p><p>“You’re no fun, Hopscotch.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. NOSE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>“you’re gonna laugh at this story one day”</strong>
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</p>
<p>On one of his rare days off, Hotch had decided to go to the park with Jack, given that it was his weekend with him. It had been a wonderful day — they had gone out to breakfast at a diner, bought Jack some new books from the bookstore, and now the two Hotchner boys were kicking around a soccer ball. Well, Jack was kicking. Hotch was barely nudging the ball with his toe, knowing that the three-year-old couldn’t keep up. Haley thought that Jack was a little young to be learning about sports already, but Hotch made a strong argument about how it would help his motor skills. Besides, all he was doing was playing with a ball.</p>
<p>They had been playing for some time when Hotch noticed someone fly by on a skateboard. Given the lack of a helmet, he was easily able to identify the girl as Florence. He was distracted by his thoughts for a moment, wondering if he should call her over and introduce her to Jack — everyone else on the team had met him. And there was no doubt in his mind that she would get along with a preschooler. </p>
<p>“Daddy, watch out!”</p>
<p>It was embarrassing, <em>really</em>. He had been distracted for just a few seconds. The incoming ball that Jack was warning him about was going no faster than five miles per hour, but that didn’t register in Hotch’s mind as he kicked it with his full force. He realized his mistake as the soccer ball went soaring through the air. It hit Florence in the face and sent her tumbling from her skateboard. </p>
<p>Hotch did his best to not say “shit” in front of his child as he ran over to Florence, Jack following quickly behind. Florence rolled on her back and slowly sat up while holding her face with both hands, groaning. Her elbows and knees were covered in fresh scrapes. She opened one of her eyes and squinted up at Hotch, surprised to see him hovering over her with a panicked look on his face.</p>
<p>“Daddy, you hit her in the face,” Jack stated, putting a hand on his head as if he was in distress. He looked adorable, but Florence was in too much pain to say anything about it. “She’s bleeding!”</p>
<p>“Florence, I’m so sorry,” Hotch said. He got Florence to move her hands, which revealed her bleeding nose. “Tilt your head back.”</p>
<p>Florence did as she was told, while also taking the flannel shirt that was tied around her waist and holding it over her nose to soak up some of the blood. “I know I’m not your favorite, Hopscotch, but there are nicer ways to get your point across.”</p>
<p>“It was an accident,” he insisted. He clearly felt guilty, and Florence rolled her eyes.</p>
<p>“I know it was an accident,” she said, wincing as she dabbed her nose. “You got a very powerful kick, Hotch.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry Daddy broke your face.” Florence finally noticed the child that was holding on to Hotch’s arm and looking up at her with wide apologetic eyes. </p>
<p>Florence chuckled but stopped because it hurt her face. “You must be Jack.”</p>
<p>“Jack, this is Florence. She works with me on my cases,” Hotch explained. Florence nodded her head in greeting, but Hotch immediately made her go back to tilting it back. “I need to get you to a doctor.”</p>
<p>“Hotch,” Florence said, sighing. “I can go to the doctor on my own. Besides, you don’t get a lot of days with Jack. You don’t gotta waste it taking me to a doctor.”</p>
<p>“Florence,” he said firmly. “Your nose is likely broken. I’m not making you take yourself to the doctor on your own. You don’t even have a car.”</p>
<p>Florence grumbled a little bit but did agree to let him take her to the closest urgent care. Once he helped her up, Hotch grabbed her skateboard while Jack sweetly offered to carry her backpack. Hotch led her back to the parking lot, steering her by her shoulder since she couldn’t look where she was going.</p>
<p>“I can’t wait to tell Derek about this,” she joked. Once she was settled in the back seat, Hotch ran around to get Jack buckled in his car seat. “They’re gonna be so mean to you.”</p>
<p>“I’ll deserve it,” Hotch muttered.</p>
<p>“Daddy, she likes Spider-Man!” Jack exclaimed. Hotch looked in the rearview mirror and saw that he was looking at all the pins covering Florence’s pink backpack. </p>
<p>“Yeah, bud, I love Spider-Man. He’s one of my favorites,” Florence said, grinning. “Your dad says you love superheroes. Who’s your favorite?”</p>
<p>“Captain America,” he proclaimed, grinning. Florence noted that he had a mouth full of teeth, which was interesting. She didn’t think kids had teeth until they were like five. “He’s the best.”</p>
<p>Florence had to bite her tongue at his comment. She told herself that she was <em>not</em> going to start an argument about how Iron Man was so much better than Captain America while she had a broken nose. In his defense, he probably didn’t read the comic books and watch the movies — his knowledge only came from watching the cartoon version of The Avengers on Cartoon Network. Hotch would never let her see his child again if she got a screaming match with him in the backseat. </p>
<p>“Y - yeah,” she muttered unenthusiastically. “I sure do love Captain America.”</p>
<p>“I wish I had a Spider-Man on my backpack,” Jack said, pouting. </p>
<p>Florence dapped her nose again and noticed that the bleeding was slowing down. “How about I give you that one?” Before Hotch could protest, she waved him off. “I collect them, so I’ve got twenty others at home waiting to replace him. Maybe I’ll put an Iron Man in his place.”</p>
<p>“I don’t like Iron Man,” Jack whispered. Florence held in a gasp. “Thank you so much, Florence. You’re my favorite of Daddy’s work friends!”</p>
<p>“Hear that, Hopscotch? I’m his favorite,” she said, grinning. “Jack, I’ll give Spider-Man to your dad since the back of it is sharp. When you get home, he can put it on your backpack.”</p>
<p>Jack cheered and then started talking about the other superheroes he liked. Florence patiently listened while occasionally scrubbing under her nose. Hotch watched them in the rearview mirror. He couldn’t believe his day. He had broken her nose and Florence shrugged it off like it was nothing, while also giving his son a gift. Of course, that made him feel even guiltier. </p>
<p>When they arrived at the urgent care center, Florence let Hotch sign her in before insisting he go. That didn’t work at all though. Jack sat in between them with a Where’s Waldo book, while Hotch helped Florence fill out her paperwork. </p>
<p>“What do you mean you don’t have insurance?” Hotch whispered, looking at her with wide eyes. “It’s offered in the benefits package you received from being hired. All you had to do was markdown that you wanted it on your starting paperwork.”</p>
<p>Florence shrugged. “Hotch, you know me well enough to know that I didn’t really understand all that paperwork Strauss made me do when I took this job.”</p>
<p>Hotch leaned back in his seat. “The minute that you get back to the office, you are filling out the form to receive the health insurance plan offered by the Bureau. I’ll pay for the x-rays.”</p>
<p>“No way,” Florence said, crossing her arms. “I can cover it.”</p>
<p>“Do you know how much doctor’s visits and x-rays and medicine actually cost without insurance?” Hotch asked, raising an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“No,” she replied, “but you should remember that I don’t have things like car payments and student loans and a child. I’ll just pull it out of my savings account.”</p>
<p>Hotch sighed and admitted internally that she had a point. Riding a skateboard to work likely saved a lot of money. “But I’m the one who—”</p>
<p>“Hit me in the face with a soccer ball,” Florence finished for him, chuckling. “You know, you go on about how I need to learn how to be an adult all the time. By letting me pay for this, it teaches me that I need to have insurance so it doesn’t cost as much. Now I’ll learn the importance of health insurance. And you’ll still pay because I’ll never let you live this down.”</p>
<p>Hotch rolled his eyes, but before he could argue further, Jack tugged on Florence’s sleeve. </p>
<p>“I can’t find Waldo,” he told her. </p>
<p>Florence did her best to look down at the book without moving her head much. Yes, her nose was killing her, but she still had to make a good first impression with Hotch’s baby — well, he wasn’t a baby but still. She narrowed her eyes and studied the image for a minute before sighing. </p>
<p>She reached over and tugged on Hotch’s sleeve like Jack had done with her. “Hotch, I can’t find Waldo.”</p>
<p>“He’s right there.”</p>
<p>“Jack, I found Waldo.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Florence!”</p>
<p>Hotch looked between the two with an open mouth. “But I’m the one that found—“</p>
<p>“We’re already on the next page, Hopscotch. Get over it.”</p>
<p>
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</p>
<p>“Oh, Sunshine, what the hell happened to your face?”</p>
<p>Everyone at their desks looked up as Florence walked into the bullpen with her head held high and her face on full display. Derek was the first to notice, and everyone else looked at her with sympathy — except for Hotch, who was standing by Prentiss’ desk and rubbed his face tiredly. </p>
<p>“You don’t like my new look?” Florence asked, chuckling. Her voice sounded off and nasally. </p>
<p>Florence’s nose had a large splint on it, with white pads covering up most of the injury. It was swollen and some gauze was stuffed up her nostrils. There were dark, purple bruises covering her nose and under her eyes that made her look miserable despite the goofy smile on her face. She really did look horrible.</p>
<p>“Baby, what happened?” Garcia asked, leaving her spot at Morgan’s desk and going to Florence’s side to look closer. </p>
<p>“Oh, Hopscotch punched me in the face,” she lied, grinning.</p>
<p>While internally, they knew she must have been lying, they all still looked at Hotch accusingly. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “I did not punch you in the face.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Florence said, laughing. “He didn’t punch me in the face. He kicked a soccer ball in my face and broke my nose.”</p>
<p>The team looked back at him, waiting for his response. Hotch sighed and grimaced. “I… did do that. There was an accident at the park.”</p>
<p>“My word, Aaron,” Rossi said, covering his mouth. “Look what you did. She looks horrible.”</p>
<p>“It’s a good thing I don’t have self-image issues,” Florence muttered as everyone agreed with Rossi. </p>
<p>“What did the doctor say about it?” Prentiss asked while looking over the bandages. </p>
<p>“They’re hoping that the splint helps reshape it so they don’t have to do surgery. I have to wear it for like two weeks,” she explained, shrugging. “The swelling will go down in a few days and they gave me a prescription to help the pain.”</p>
<p>“How bad does it hurt?” JJ asked, frowning. </p>
<p>“It feels like I have a migraine but on my nose and I can feel my heartbeat in it.”</p>
<p>As Florence went over her symptoms, Hotch began to feel even worse. Yes, she had made it clear that she didn’t blame him, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t ever want to touch a soccer ball ever again. He also found it hard to look at Florence’s face without cringing from the memory. Hotch had told Haley about it when he dropped Jack back off, and she tried to convince him that it was okay and that accidents happen. It didn’t work. </p>
<p>After the team fussed over Florence for several more minutes — she ate that attention up — they began to get back to work. Instead of following Garcia to their office, Florence went to Hotch’s. He gave her a very pathetic and apologetic look when she knocked on his door. </p>
<p>“Florence, again, I am so sorry—”</p>
<p>Hotch cut himself off when Florence grinned and threw something at him. He caught it and studied the bracelet made out of gray thread. Florence smiled sweetly, and combined with the bracelet, Hotch’s guilt was now consuming him.</p>
<p>“I broke your nose, and you made me a friendship bracelet?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. </p>
<p>“You earned it. Now everyone has theirs.”</p>
<p>“You were not obligated to make me one just because you made one for the rest of the team and Anderson,” Hotch said. </p>
<p>Florence sighed. “Hopscotch, I’ve had these made since my first week here. I know you aren’t going to wear it though.”</p>
<p>“So, you wait until I break your nose with a soccer ball to give me mine?” he asked, confused. </p>
<p>“I just want you to know that I really am not mad at you,” she said. “You’re gonna laugh at this story one day. Plus, I finally got to meet Jack. He’s a great kid. Bad taste in superheroes, but still a good kid. Yeah, my nose was bleeding, but I’d been wanting to meet him for a while so there were pros and cons to Saturday.”</p>
<p>“I was very surprised at your restraint when he mentioned his distaste for Iron Man,” Hotch admitted. He looked down at the bracelet in his hands. “Thank you for forgiving me, Florence.”</p>
<p>She waved him off. “Nothing to forgive. I’m gonna get back to work. See ya later, Hopscotch.”</p>
<p>As she left, she passed Rossi who was coming into Hotch’s office.</p>
<p>“Did she yell at you for her nose?” Rossi asked, grinning.</p>
<p>Hotch rolled his eyes and looked at some of his paperwork. “No. She let me know that there were no hard feelings and I got my bracelet.”</p>
<p>“Ooh, what colors?”</p>
<p>“Just gray,” Hotch said, showing it to him. </p>
<p>“Lucky,” he muttered.</p>
<p>Hotch gave him an odd look. “How am I lucky for getting a gray bracelet. It’s not even my favorite color.”</p>
<p>“Well, you’ve never told her your favorite color. Besides, it matches all your outfits. I can’t wear mine,” Rossi said while pulling his own bracelet out of his wallet. “I love the colors of the Italian flag, but it clashes with my suits. Yours is stylish.”</p>
<p>“I’m not trading bracelets with you, Dave,” Hotch said, showing a hint of a smile. He tucked his bracelet in his wallet behind his badge so that he’d always have it. “Did you finish that report you were talking about?”</p>
<p>“You’re no fun.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>Seemingly out of nowhere, Hotch pulled the team to Boston before they were even requested by the local authorities. The Boston Reaper, who hadn’t killed in years, suddenly resurfaced and Hotch wanted everything done to catch him. Garcia had explained to Florence that it was his first case as a lead profiler, and it had always bothered Hotch that he was never caught. Apparently, the original lead detective made a deal with the Reaper for him to stop killing so long as they stopped searching for him. And now that detective had died and the Reaper was right back at it.</p>
<p>Hotch had tasked Florence and Garcia with tracking down the only victim left alive, George Foyet. There was just one problem as they soon found out — he basically didn’t exist. It frustrated Florence to no end that there was nothing to find on him. Her world revolved around the internet, and the fact that he didn’t caused a huge problem.</p>
<p>They called Morgan to give the bad news, and he quickly sent Prentiss to go get Hotch.</p>
<p>“Garcia and Florence can't find George Foyet,” Morgan told them.</p>
<p>“I've got nothing, Sir,” Garcia said.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” Hotch asked, confused.</p>
<p>“He's gone,” Garcia said. “I mean, he's completely off the grid, and he's gone.”</p>
<p>“How is that possible?”</p>
<p>“Nine months after he was released from the hospital, he, uh, quit his job, sold his car, closed his bank accounts, canceled his credit cards, cell phone, apartment, everything. He has no paper, thus he has no trail. And I can't find him cause he's gone.”</p>
<p>“You think it's intentional?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“It’s more than intentional,” Florence muttered. Those on the call were surprised to hear the annoyance in her tone. “It’s almost impossible. Even dead people stay on the grid for decades. He’s way committed to this. He had to cut everything and everyone out of his life. It’s like he offed himself and wiped his existence off the planet. It’s annoyingly impressive.”</p>
<p>“Well, after what the guy's been through, can you blame him?” Prentiss asked. “Foyet's the only living person who knows what the Reaper looks like and he's still out there.”</p>
<p>“But it doesn't change the fact that we still need to find him,” Hotch said. Then he sighed. “Florence, have you tried—”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’ve used my less than ethical methods,” she said, angrily sipping on a Capri Sun.</p>
<p>“We’ll keep looking though,” Garcia added, trying to not give up hope.</p>
<p>“Garcia, we don't have much time,” Hotch said.</p>
<p>“I know, Sir.”</p>
<p>Hotch did manage to track down Foyet eventually. He ended up contacting the author who wrote a book on the Reaper. He had interviewed Foyet and kept in contact with him, so Rossi and Hotch went to his address. </p>
<p>Once they got addresses and aliases from him, Florence could start her real digging. She could also look more into his relationship with Amanda Bertrand, who had been killed the night he almost died. While she found all she could, the team certainly wasn’t having a fun time.</p>
<p>The Reaper had killed several people on a public bus while leaving a weird and cryptic message. Eventually, they figured out that the Reaper knew all of Foyet’s aliases and addresses, so the team split up to go and find him. The Reaper ended up being at the address Morgan checked. They were all surprised and thrown for a loop when he didn’t kill Morgan after knocking him out and taking his FBI credentials. </p>
<p>Once he was patched up, the team went back to the precinct to rethink the whole case. Given the amount of Foyet’s blood at the scene, they could only assume he was dead or near it. While they did that, Florence looked back over Foyet’s story.</p>
<p>“Garcia, call the team,” she mumbled, shuffling through the papers.</p>
<p>“You got something?” she asked while dialing them.</p>
<p>“I think.”</p>
<p>“Garcia?” Hotch answered. “What do you have?”</p>
<p>“Uh, Florence.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” she said, rolling over to the phone with the files in hand. “Amanda Bertrand was my age when Foyet proposed, except he’s almost ten years older than her. That was the first alarm. Next, he was a teacher’s assistant in one of her Freshman classes. Now, she’s originally from Michigan, so he didn’t meet her until classes started.”</p>
<p>“Well, how long had she been in the class?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“Four weeks,” Florence answered. She handed the files over to Garcia so she could see what she found. “Now, he’s not a Marine, and love, at first sight, is a pathetic excuse to propose to a nineteen-year-old girl.”</p>
<p>“You think Foyet was lying?” Morgan asked.</p>
<p>“Well, I’m no profiler, but I know a creepy old man when I see one. And that’s not all I found,” she said. “I looked into all his aliases. Kevin Baskin, Miles Holden, and William Parker all work for the Department of Education as substitute teachers for Computer Science in, you guessed it, a creepy old man’s playground — high schools.”</p>
<p>“No, not all of them work for the Department of Education,” Garcia said, scanning the file.</p>
<p>“They’re not?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“No. William Parker was fired for alleged inappropriate behavior with his female students,” Garcia revealed. The line was silent for a moment as they thought over the new information. “Hotch?”</p>
<p>“Colson went to see Foyet. Garcia, I need you to locate Roy Colson's cell phone. George Foyet is the Reaper,” he ordered.</p>
<p>“Oh, god. Uh, ok, triangulating now. I got it. 2633 South Budlong,” Garcia quickly replied.</p>
<p>“That must be an address that Foyet didn't give us,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>The team managed to catch Foyet before he killed Colson. No one could find Morgan’s badge though. Despite having him in custody, Florence knew that the fact that Foyet got the drop on Morgan would bother him for a while. </p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>“You did really well on this case, Florence,” Hotch complimented. </p>
<p>They had all arrived back at the BAU, where Florence and Garcia had greeted them in the lobby.</p>
<p>“Definitely,” Prentiss agreed. “Boy, am I glad they sent you here instead of prison.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I don’t think I would’ve done that great in prison,” Florence said, leaning on Reid’s desk.</p>
<p>“Oh, you don’t think the other inmates like friendship bracelets and one direction?” she asked, smirking, while the others snickered.</p>
<p>“It sounds like you’re asking to give your friendship bracelet privileges revoked,” Florence mumbled. </p>
<p>Prentiss held her left wrist protectively, where she was wearing her bracelet. “Let’s not make any rash decisions. Seriously though, you managed to find the holes in Foyet’s story before anyone else could.”</p>
<p>Florence shrugged the compliment off. “Well, as a nineteen-year-old girl, if a teacher’s assistant who was almost ten years older than me and only moderately average looking showed interest in me, I’d find it suspicious. Everything else was just regular snooping.”</p>
<p>“You do excel at snooping,” JJ told her, smiling. </p>
<p>Everyone soon got to work on filling out their reports and necessary paperwork. Florence still hung around, with nothing better to do. All was going pretty well until JJ rushed through the bullpen towards Hotch’s office. As she passed, she instructed them to turn on the news.</p>
<p>What they saw shocked them all. Foyet had escaped from prison and there was now a manhunt going on. Everyone immediately jumped up to get to work and phones started ringing all over the office.</p>
<p>As JJ led Hotch and Rossi into the bullpen, Prentiss ran over with Reid right behind her.</p>
<p>“The Boston field office just identified documents from Foyet's house,” she told them.</p>
<p>“They're schematics for the electrical, heating, and water ducts for the East Woburn Correctional Facility,” Reid explained.</p>
<p>“He had the schematics?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“And not just for Woburn. For every jail, prison, and courthouse in Massachusetts,” Reid said.</p>
<p>“And ten years to plan,” Rossi added.</p>
<p>“But they’ll find him, right?” Florence asked.</p>
<p>Hotch stared up at the TV, where they were reporting the story. “No, they're not.”</p>
<p>“He said he'd be more famous than we knew.,” Derek stated, frowning. “And he was right.”</p>
<p>“Well, shit,” Florence mumbled.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. SNOOPING</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>“this is why you have a teenage girl on your team”</strong>
</p>
<p>
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</p>
<p>Florence didn’t know if it was considered incredibly late or incredibly early when she got called to come in for a case. She was half asleep as she skated to the building. She ended up being one of the first to arrive, so she made her way to the break room and fixed a ziplock bag full of ice. Once back in the briefing room, she leaned back and put it on her nose, which had been hurting since she woke up.</p>
<p>“How’s the nose, kiddo?” Rossi asked, sipping on his coffee. </p>
<p>“I got to take the gauze out of my nostrils,” she mumbled tiredly. “And my friend Julie drew little hearts on the bandage, so at least it’s cute.”</p>
<p>None of them made a comment about her mentioning a friend — something she had never done before. They were a bit too tired to care, but they’d think about it later. Eventually, everyone mosied into the briefing room with their coffee and wearing their comfy clothes. However, Florence was the only one in her pajamas, which had little pink cows on them. JJ quickly started their briefing by playing footage of a theater burning down.</p>
<p>“This is news footage from a movie theater in Royal, Indiana. Population two thousand. Earlier tonight nineteen people were killed.”</p>
<p>“And they're sure it's arson?” Morgan asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Two days ago the same thing happened at the local recreation center,” JJ said. “Twelve victims, no survivors.”</p>
<p>“I heard about that,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“Yeah, it was all over the news,” Morgan added.</p>
<p>“There were some details that didn't make the news,” JJ told them. “A week and a half earlier there were some fires at a convenience store, a local restaurant. Luckily, it was after hours and no one was hurt.”</p>
<p>“So whoever set these went from no victims to thirty-one in two weeks. That's a hell of an escalation,” Rossi noted.</p>
<p>“Why didn't they call us in sooner?” Prentiss asked.</p>
<p>“The local police and fire department knew they were dealing with an arsonist, but they had no idea he'd become a killer.”</p>
<p>“Most arsonists don't,” Reid said. “They just like setting fires. Any deaths that occur are almost always accidental.”</p>
<p>“Thirty-one victims is not an accident,” Morgan said. </p>
<p>“The Police Chief knows he made a mistake,” Hotch said. “And he learned the hard way that even though not all arsonists are killers, they do have one thing in common — once they start, they can't stop.”</p>
<p>
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</p>
<p>Once the team was in the air, they video-called Garcia and Florence to go over the case some more. Florence was wrapped up in her blanket from Hotch and curled up in her chair. For a brief moment, she considered drinking coffee instead of her Capri Sun, but she quickly shook the thought away.</p>
<p>“Based on the limited population of Royal, the unsub is most likely a local male between the ages of seventeen and thirty,” Reid informed them.</p>
<p>“What, arson is a sexist industry?” Garcia asked.</p>
<p>“For the most part, yeah. Only twelve percent of arsonists are female,” he said.</p>
<p>“Apparently women just aren't inclined to burn things,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“Let's go with the numbers,” Hotch said. “Focus on males.”</p>
<p>“Well, we can scratch hero complex off the list. He hasn't left anyone to save,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>“Yeah, but we can't rule out firefighters and other first responders,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“How's about we do a background check on all local firefighters and EMTs?” Garcia asked.</p>
<p>“And flag anyone with a history of being first on the scene,” Hotch said.</p>
<p>“Or anyone with a juvenile record that includes vandalism or small nuisance fires,” Rossi added.</p>
<p>“I will look at everything from firebug to flamethrower.”</p>
<p>“Did you check out the news footage?” Hotch asked JJ. “I want the word out that we'd like to see any personal videos or photos of the fire. Arsonists like to watch, and if our unsub stuck around, maybe somebody will recognize him.”</p>
<p>“I'm on it.”</p>
<p>“Locals find anything in their call logs that resemble the unsub's MO?” Morgan asked. “I mean, he may have staged practice runs.”</p>
<p>“According to the Fire Chief's report, there was nothing similar in the past year,” Rossi told him.</p>
<p>“Garcia, extend your search statewide,” Hotch ordered. “The unsub may have done his practicing far enough away so as not to arouse suspicion.”</p>
<p>“I will cast a wide net, Sir.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.”</p>
<p>“I grew up in a small town,” JJ reminded them. “People are gonna assume anyone we question is guilty.”</p>
<p>“The last thing we want is for this to turn into a witch hunt,” Rossi said. </p>
<p>“It's exactly what this is. We're just gonna have to keep the locals from realizing it. Garcia, I want you and Florence to find out everything that you can about the thirty-one victims, and I don't mean just their paper trail. I need to know everyone related to them, everybody they owed money to, everybody they had an argument with,” Hotch told them.</p>
<p>Florence perked up in her seat while Garcia frowned. “Sir, if I'm hearing you right, you're saying I'm the witch hunter.”</p>
<p>“That's exactly what I'm saying.”</p>
<p>Florence jumped out of her chair, suddenly very awake. “I’m gonna need six different colors of post-it notes, some thread, some thumb-tacks, and bitchin’ spreadsheet.”</p>
<p>Everyone on the plane looked to the computer screen, confused at her enthusiasm. Garcia warily started searching for those things while glancing at her every now and then.</p>
<p>“This is it. This is why you have a teenage girl on your team. You think I did a good job of snooping on the Reaper case, then just you wait.”</p>
<p>“I see someone is gonna have fun on this case,” Rossi mumbled with wide eyes. </p>
<p>
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</p>
<p>When the team called Florence and Garcia back to check-in, the background checks were all finished. She barely listened as Garcia went over what she had found with them. Florence was too busy compiling all her information. The wonderful but horrible thing about connecting thirty-one people in a small town was that the crossover was almost limitless.</p>
<p>“Florence, what about the victims?” Hotch asked her.</p>
<p>“I’ve only scratched the surface, Sir,” she said, walking over and squatting to look in the camera. “It’s a random mix of ages and genders. Almost everyone is local, other than like a cousin visiting.”</p>
<p>“Is there any crossover between the victims and the two towns?” he asked.</p>
<p>Florence put her hands up in defense. “Bear with me. I know we’re on a time constraint. And there’s nothing but crossover. It’s going to take some time to actually dig up the juicy stuff. Alex Nagel, who died in the rec center, was an upstanding member of the local church. He owned a lot of the real estate in Royal, including the theater. Windy Kennedy was killed at the theater and volunteered at the rec center. I’ve got a teacher, third cousins, and three potential affairs, but I know it’s not the stuff you’re looking for. It takes time to pick apart the lives of thirty-one dead people.”</p>
<p>“You’re right. Third cousins and religious affiliations are probably not gonna help us. I need to know who had enemies, who had secrets, who was a target. Garcia can help now that she’s finished the background checks.”</p>
<p>“Oh, with all due respect, Sir, my brain muscles are comfortable with being intuitive with information, not people. I get that Ren is a nosy and judgy little teenager, but looking at people like that is not part of my job description. I'm not a profiler. </p>
<p>“Well, you're gonna have to be,” Hotch told her firmly. “We don't have much time. You two look into the nuisance fires. Garcia, stay on the radio.”</p>
<p>Once Hotch was gone, Florence gave Garcia a sympathetic look. “He’s just still tense from Foyet escaping. Now, wanna see my system?”</p>
<p>“Let’s see the system,” Garcia said, sighing.</p>
<p>“Okay, first, I’ve been keeping track of it all and adding it to my spreadsheet when I find something new. I’ve got everyone’s picture taped up on the walls. Now we have the sticky note system. Green means that they are on good terms and are friends. Nothing suspicious going on. Pink notes indicate that they are married or dating someone. Now yellow is for messy breakups and affairs. Blue is for if they are related, no matter how distant. Then red is for people that are enemies or suspicious activity or general bad blood. I have some orange ones set aside for if we need to add a new category. Make sense?”</p>
<p>Garcia looked at her with an open mouth while looking around at the thirty-one faces. “I already miss my computer.”</p>
<p>“Let’s dive in,” Florence said with a mischievous smile.</p>
<p>
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</p>
<p>It was several hours later and the walls of their office were covered with all colors of sticky notes. They received a call from Morgan, which Garcia rushed to answer while Florence kept making connections.</p>
<p>“Hello?” she answered, sounded distressed. </p>
<p>“Hey, how's Miss smart and sexy doing today?” Morgan greeted.</p>
<p>“Fair warning, cupcake. As much as I love you and our witty banter, I am all out of witty and banter and am struggling with love,” she replied.</p>
<p>“What's wrong, baby?”</p>
<p>“I am standing at the crossroads of thirty-one lives and what I see is a train wreck. You want a little tour? This is what I mean. Here we go,” Garcia said, running around the room to check notes. “Flip Phillips. He beat his wife. It went on for years. Although you wouldn't know it if you looked at the police reports, because that's one of the perks of being the Mayor. David Alexander. He sued his boss for five million dollars over something totally lame. And what makes it even more erotic is he was sleeping with the boss' daughter. And then there is — Where is she?”</p>
<p>Florence points off towards the woman she assumed Garcia was looking for. “Thanks, Ren. One of the town councilwomen, now, she had a terminally ill husband and also three boyfriends under the age of twenty. I want to believe that the world is just teeming with awesome people, but all of this is giving me great pause. I want to go back to cyberspace.”</p>
<p>“I'm sorry, sweetheart, not yet,” Morgan told her gently. “I got a few more names for you.”</p>
<p>Garcia sighed and took a seat at her desk. “Ok. Just, um... please tell me they're still alive.”</p>
<p>“I wish I could do that, Garcia.”</p>
<p>“I can take them,” Florence offered, knowing how distraught Garcia was over this case. “Go ahead, Morgan.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>Once they had enough time to dig up info on the new victims, the team got together to go over everything.</p>
<p>“So tell us about the bar victims,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“All right,” Spencer said. “Hilda and Roger Drake. She was a teacher, he sold insurance.”</p>
<p>“Friends, enemies?” Prentiss asked.</p>
<p>“Oh, no, nothing like that. They seemed sweet. Their biggest problem was finding baby names. Hilda was pregnant.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” JJ asked, surprised. “The M.E. Hasn't even started yet.”</p>
<p>“No, people in Royal take out ads. Lordy, Lordy, look who's forty. Ask Jane what she was doing at the American Legion on Friday night,” Garcia read off from the newspaper.</p>
<p>“That's just wrong,” Prentiss muttered.</p>
<p>“That's small-town life for you. Your business is everybody's business,” JJ said.</p>
<p>“There was a belly watch on Hilda,” Garcia added.</p>
<p>“Uh, what about Eric Gall?” JJ asked.</p>
<p>Garcia smiled a little, finding his backstory amusing. “Oh, Eric. He was a boozer. He spent most of his time at Pop's place. I've got a few drunk and disorderlies, but he seems harmless. And given the amount of rounds he bought, it's safe to say the whole town loved him.”</p>
<p>Morgan took a call from Hotch that only lasted a few moments. “Ok, well, they managed to speak to the bartender. According to her, there was a guy there before the fire. He didn't speak to anybody and he kept switching seats. She didn't seem to recognize him.”</p>
<p>“Ok. Wait. So she knew the owner and the boozer, and the husband wouldn't have gotten up and changed seats,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“If the bartender didn't recognize him, maybe he's just not from Royal,” JJ guessed.</p>
<p>“That's not necessarily true,” Reid responded. “What if she knew him and she just didn't realize it?”</p>
<p>“What, like a disguise?” JJ asked.</p>
<p>“The fire captain said the unsub knew the layout of the movie theater. He used that knowledge to light the fire. But at the bar, the unsub kept changing his seats.”</p>
<p>“Which would give him a better view of the entrances and exits,” Prentiss realized.</p>
<p>“So he was studying the layout. He wasn't familiar with the area,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>“What if he grew up in Royal and he moved away? Garcia, what year was that bar built?”</p>
<p>“Uh, the bar was built five... six years ago.”</p>
<p>“And what about the movie theater?” Prentiss asked.</p>
<p>“The movie theater was built in the forties,” she replied. “It was a single screen, they divided it two years ago. Rec center was built in the late seventies.”</p>
<p>“I'm gonna call Hotch,” Morgan said, already calling him up.</p>
<p>After a bit more snooping and input from the profilers, they managed to narrow their search down to Tina Wheeler. She was an EMT and had married the owner of the bar two days ago. </p>
<p>“Guess how Tina’s parents died when she was five years old?” Florence asked while chewing on a Capri Sun straw. “Yup. A fire.”</p>
<p>“After they died, her and her brother Tommy were sent to live with their grandparents in Royal,” Garcia added.</p>
<p>“Send us everything you have on them,” Hotch said.</p>
<p>“Well, that's just it. I got... I got plenty on Tina, but I can't really find anything on her brother. I’ve got Florence working on it, but so far, nothing. Tina, she, uh, she lived in Royal. She went to a community college a few towns over. Got a degree, took a job, worked hard, married Jason. But Tommy, it’s like... he just disappeared.”</p>
<p>“Find him, Florence.”</p>
<p>“Doing my best, Hopscotch,” she muttered while continuing to scour the internet.</p>
<p>It took them quite a bit longer to piece everything together. They went through countless files, records, and phone calls. But once they had everything, it was certainly something. Garcia immediately called Hotch to let them know. Once everyone and the Chief of Police and town doctor were gathered, they began to go over it all.</p>
<p>“We believe Jason Elliot may have been the target,” Hotch said.</p>
<p>“The bartender said that Jason stopped by the bar at the same time each day to pick up the cash and take it to the bank,” Rossi said.</p>
<p>“Which would have made him an easy target for anyone who knew his schedule,” Prentiss added.</p>
<p>“I don't get all this,” Chief Carlson said. “Jason was a good man. It may sound corny to you, but everybody loved him.”</p>
<p>“Two days ago, Jason Elliot married Tina Wheeler,” Spencer revealed.</p>
<p>“She told me about it yesterday,” Doctor Rawlings said. “All the tragedies made them not want to wait. It's a damn shame.”</p>
<p>“What can you tell us about Tina's brother Tommy?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“Tommy?” Rawlings asked, surprised.</p>
<p>“Uh, nobody's seen him around here in more than ten years,” Carlson told them.</p>
<p>“Uh, we actually think they may have. They just might not recognize him,” Reid told them.</p>
<p>“How is that possible?”</p>
<p>“Well, he's aged ten years, and he'd make sure to go unnoticed,” Reid explained. </p>
<p>“Garcia?” Hotch called.</p>
<p>“Tommy Wheeler,” she said, holding the folder she had compiled on him. “Little Tommy Wheeler. You remember him? He and his sister Tina moved to royal when he was five. Doc Rawlings was his pediatrician. Apparently, early medical records indicated Tommy may have been emotionally unbalanced.”</p>
<p>“Tommy was a little unstable,” Rawlings agreed. “His parents dying brought that out.”</p>
<p>“Granted, I don't have a medical degree, but my guess is, watching his parents die in a fire didn't help Tommy's emotional well-being,” Garcia muttered. Florence kept an eye on her, knowing that this case was pushing her limit.</p>
<p>“What about Tina? How did the fires affect her?” Morgan asked.</p>
<p>“Uh… Tina wasn't as damaged by it as he was. She adjusted more quickly.”</p>
<p>“She was Tommy's lifeline,” Carlson added.</p>
<p>“She was more than that,” Reid stated. “In a situation like this — No parents, new environment, and grandparents probably too old to take care of them. Tina became Tommy's whole world.”</p>
<p>“Sister, mother, family,” Rossi listed off.</p>
<p>“They were very close,” Rawlings admitted.</p>
<p>“Close enough that Tina distorted Tommy's love map,” Rossi said.</p>
<p>“The way an individual gives or receives love — their love map — is established by the age of six. With the death of the parents, Tommy's love map revolved exclusively around Tina,” Reid explained.</p>
<p>“Yeah, it was like they were in their own little world,” Carlson told them. “By the time they were eight, they even had their own language. It was a bit disturbing.”</p>
<p>“But understandable. Perfectly understandable,” Garcia said defensively. </p>
<p>“Maybe.”</p>
<p>“So what happened?” Hotch asked, rubbing his eyes.</p>
<p>“What do you think happened? People talked. It's the only real occupation in Royal,” Garcia snapped.</p>
<p>“There were rumors,” Carlson admitted. “It was that Tommy and Tina were too close. Nothing was ever confirmed, though.”</p>
<p>“No, it wasn't. But, then, the truth didn't matter.”</p>
<p>“After the rumors started, things got ugly. People pointed fingers. Tommy got expelled from school—”</p>
<p>“Based on nothing but hearsay,” Garcia interrupted.</p>
<p>“Not true. The school had cause.”</p>
<p>“No, they didn't—”</p>
<p>“Garcia,” Hotch said in a warning tone.</p>
<p>“I spoke to his teacher. She told me how the whole school and the whole town turned against him, based on nothing but a rumor. She also told me another rumor. </p>
<p>“Garcia—”</p>
<p>“In this one, fourteen-year-old Tommy was beaten within an inch of his life by adults. Grown men.”</p>
<p>“I didn't hear about it until after the fact,” Carlson said in his defense. “There was nothing I could do.”</p>
<p>“Broken bones, punctured lung, all because of a rumor.”</p>
<p>“I couldn't go after anyone based on only my suspicions,” Carlson said. “Nobody was talking about it, Not even Tommy. I spoke to his grandparents and told them what to do.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. So they moved Tommy to a Colorado boarding school, and they cut off all ties between him and his sister,” Garcia said. “It was as if Tommy never even existed.”</p>
<p>“It was for the best. They would have killed him.”</p>
<p>“If what Garcia said is true, then this town's actions went a long way towards making Tommy who he is,” Reid said.</p>
<p>“We need to talk to Tina,” Rossi decided.</p>
<p>Garcia ended up having a mild anxiety attack about her actions. She was freaking out about how she had done just what the townspeople of Royal had done. Despite the fact that Tommy was the one setting these fires, she still didn’t think she had a right to accuse him of a felony without any evidence. Florence had managed to calm her down and told her to take a break. Florence quickly told the team everything else about Tommy once he left juvie. There were records of him buying lots of gasoline recently in a town a few hundred miles out of Royal.</p>
<p>There had been a statewide alert put out for him. Tommy had taken Tina, but eventually, they tracked him down. They found him at the same place that he had taken Tina to the Spring Formal. Thankfully, they got him in custody without him burning down the building and all the agents in it.</p>
<p>While snooping and tying everyone’s lives together had been amusing for Florence, it had been way too stressful for Garcia. She was more than happy to start taking everything off the walls once the case was closed. That was how Hotch found them, taking down all the post-it notes.</p>
<p>“You guys choose this,” Garcia said, glancing at him. Florence slowly took a seat to see how it would go. “Turning people over like rocks and looking at all their creepy-crawly things underneath. And I get it. I do. It's the only way to catch them. But, I want to see the good in people. I choose to see the good in people. And getting into someone's mind and trying to find the god-awful thing that happened to them that made them do the god-awful thing to somebody else has seriously impaired my ability to giggle. And it makes my brain all wonky, and I don't like it.”</p>
<p>“Garcia,” Hotch said, in a surprisingly gentle tone.</p>
<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
<p>“I just wanted to thank you for your excellent work on this case. And I understand that what you did was for you very difficult. But your contributions are essential to the success of this team,” he said.</p>
<p>“Thank you, sir.”</p>
<p>“I know you see the good in people, Penelope. Always, and I would never want you to change that.”</p>
<p>There was a nice moment of silence before Florence sniffed, drawing attention to her. “Sorry. That was just really cute and sweet.” She wiped under her nose but immediately regretted it. She hunched over and groaned, holding her nose. “Oh <em>shit</em>. Fuck, I forgot my nose was broken. I’ve ruined the mood. But it hurts so much. Shit.”</p>
<p>Garcia couldn’t help but laugh, despite feeling bad for her pain. “There’s my ability to giggle.”</p>
<p>Hotch sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I’ll go get some ice.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. DATE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>“oh my god, there’s two of them</strong>
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<p>Everyone on the team decided to eat their lunch in the briefing room. They had had some dark cases recently and thought casually catching up might make their day seem a little better. Florence had stepped out of the room for a few minutes to take a call while Morgan went into detail about something funny that happened the last time he was at a club. Before he could get to the part where drinks started being thrown, Florence stormed back into the room.</p>
<p>She looked distressed all of the sudden and her eyes landed on Hotch. </p>
<p>“Why’d you have to go and break my nose, Hotchner!” she exclaimed angrily. Everyone sat back, shocked as she glared at him. “It’s not that hard to kick a freaking soccer ball anywhere <em>but</em> someone’s face. I’m so mad at you. Ugh!”</p>
<p>Florence stood there for half a second before storming off again. Clearly, she wasn’t planning on coming back. The team looked at Hotch, whose mouth was slightly open. </p>
<p>“I thought she forgave you for that,” Garcia said.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Where was that anger last week?” Morgan asked.</p>
<p>“I… don’t know what that was,” Hotch said. He prepared to stand and go after her, but Prentiss stopped him.</p>
<p>“Uh, maybe I should go check on her,” she said, getting up. “She seems like she doesn’t want to talk with you.”</p>
<p>They watched as Prentiss followed after Florence. She found her in the women’s bathroom glaring angrily at her face in the mirror — or more specifically, her nose. It looked better than it had a week and a half ago. She still had the splint and bandages on the outside of her nose. The swelling was completely gone, and the bruising had begun to turn green and yellow instead of dark purple. It was a definite improvement, but clearly, Florence was upset.</p>
<p>“Hey, Ren,” Prentiss said softly. “You wanna tell me what that was all about.”</p>
<p>“No,” she muttered, frowning. “It’s nothing.”</p>
<p>“Okay. We were just surprised. I thought that you weren’t angry about him breaking your nose,” she said, joining her side. “It was an accident.”</p>
<p>Florence sighed and rolled her eyes. “I know it was an accident.”</p>
<p>“What’s wrong then? Because even though you don’t say it out loud, we all know Hotch is your favorite and you’re his. Everything was fine until you took that call.”</p>
<p>“It — it’s stupid. Forget it. I’ll go apologize.”</p>
<p>Prentiss grabbed her shoulder to stop her from leaving. “Florence.”</p>
<p>After a few moments, Florence groaned and leaned her head against the wall, giving in. “That was Reggie. He was asking me out on… a date. This Saturday he's picking me up at seven.”</p>
<p>Prentiss did her best to hide her grin as she nodded in understanding. “And you don’t want to show up with your nose looking like that.”</p>
<p>“It - it really is stupid. It’s just, I’ve never actually been on a date before and I really like him. When you hear about perfect first dates, there usually aren’t broken noses involved,” she mumbled, slightly embarrassed.</p>
<p>“Would Reggie really care about your nose?” </p>
<p>“No, I guess not. He knows about it anyway. I went bowling with him and his friends a few nights ago, so he’s seen it.”</p>
<p>Prentiss grinned and brushed some of Florence’s hair behind her ear. “See, he saw what you looked like with it, and still wanted to go on a date anyway. Aren’t you going back to the doctor on Friday to get more x-rays?” </p>
<p>“Yeah. I either get the splint taken off or have to wear it one more week,” she replied.</p>
<p>“Alright, let’s plan for you getting it off,” Prentiss said. “I know you don’t really wear makeup, but I can come over beforehand. Years on this job have helped me master the art of covering up bruises. He’ll forget all about the broken nose and focus on his date with the perfect girl.”</p>
<p>Slowly, Florence started to feel better. Prentiss made some good points, and she was feeling less annoyed by the state of her nose. She even felt a little shallow after the fact. </p>
<p>“I should go apologize to Hotch,” Florence muttered. </p>
<p>“Unfortunately, I think you’re going to have to explain yourself,” she told her. “You made quite a scene.”</p>
<p>“I can’t tell them,” Florence said, her voice going up a notch. “Then they’re gonna, like, want to meet him or something weird like that.”</p>
<p>Prentiss chuckled. “It’s not weird to want to meet him before he takes you out. And, maybe so, but I’d like to remind you that Hotch and Morgan have both been having a rough time since Foyet escaped. Don’t you think they’d have some fun by giving Reggie the stereotypical over-protective dad talk before the date?”</p>
<p>“That sounds like my actual worst nightmare,” Florence muttered. “And no fair using Hotch and Morgan against my conscience.”</p>
<p>“Would you rather they profile it out of you and then follow you around on the date?” It was funny, considering she had done the same thing. She wrapped an arm around Florence’s shoulder and slowly led her back to the briefing room. “Come on. It’ll be a fun experience.”</p>
<p>Once they arrived at the briefing room, everyone looked at Florence expectantly, while Prentiss kept an arm around her, grinning mischievously.  </p>
<p>“Hotch, I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she mumbled, looking at her shoes. “I’m not actually mad at you and I know it was an accident.”</p>
<p>“Even so, you have every right to be mad if you want, Florence,” Hotch said, trying to catch her eye but she kept staring at her feet.</p>
<p>“What got you so worked up, kiddo?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>Florence bit her lip and Prentiss nudged her. She leaned down to whisper in her ear. “For Morgan and Hotch.”</p>
<p>“Fuck you, Emily,” she muttered. Then Florence rolled her eyes and looked at the ceiling, not wanting to make eye contact with any of them. “I was just overreacting because a boy I like asked me on a date, and I didn’t want to go on my first date with my nose looking like this.”</p>
<p>Garcia was the first to react. She squealed excitedly and grabbed Morgan’s arm to squeeze it. “Oh, finally! I’ve been waiting for this since you met him and his friends at the art festival—”</p>
<p>Florence immediately cut her eyes to Garcia, who had gone quiet, realizing her mistake. “The art festival?”</p>
<p>“Um,” Garcia mumbled nervously. Prentiss glared at her from across the room. </p>
<p>“Garcia,” Florence said slowly. “How do you know that?”</p>
<p>She managed to keep quiet for all of six seconds before blurting it out. “Emily, Spencer, and I followed you in a van and watched you through binoculars.”</p>
<p>“<em>Oh my god!</em>” Florence yelled, spinning on her heel to glare at Prentiss. Then she looked over her shoulder at Reid, who was looking down at the table. “And Spence? Really? You stalked me?”</p>
<p>“We just wanted to make sure he wasn’t dangerous,” Garcia said quickly. “And he’s not! He passed my background check and everything and then it was so adorable when he gave you that Scrappy-Doo from the pizza—”</p>
<p>“Oh. My. God!” she exclaimed even louder. She drew the attention of some agents in the bullpen, so Prentiss quickly shut the door to keep the noise inside. “That is not cool on so many levels, guys. I’m never telling any of you anything, ever again.”</p>
<p>“Look on the bright side,” Prentiss said, wincing. There was very little she could do to fix this situation. “You have your very first date. Yay!”</p>
<p>“Oh, what? Are you gonna disguise yourself as a plant and follow us around? Watch us through newspapers with eye holes cut out? Dress up and pretend to be the waiter?”</p>
<p>“You know actual spies don’t do that stuff, right?” Rossi asked, chuckling.</p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter if spies do that shit,” she said, crossing her arms and looking accusingly at Prentiss. “No way you’re coming over to help me get ready now.”</p>
<p>“You were gonna help her get ready? That’s so cute,” JJ said, smiling. </p>
<p>“Look, Baby Girl,” Morgan said, standing up and crossing his arms. “I know you’re upset with them for following you. However, no way am I letting you go out with a guy I haven’t met.”</p>
<p>“You don’t need to meet him,” Florence said. “He’s perfectly nice and I’ve hung out with him with other people plenty of times. Reggie’s harmless.”</p>
<p>“So he’s got a name,” Rossi noted. “Expect us at your apartment an hour before he’s supposed to pick you up.”</p>
<p>Florence scoffed and shook her head. “Absolutely not. No way. I won’t let you in.”</p>
<p>“You gave spare keys to Hotch and Garcia for emergencies,” Reid reminded her. He had a small amused smile. “Something tells me it wouldn’t take much to convince either of them to use them.”</p>
<p>“I never said when he’s picking me up,” she said, smiling triumphantly.</p>
<p>“Saturday at seven,” Prentiss told them, smirking. </p>
<p>Hotch then cleared his throat. Florence’s smile fell and everyone else snickered. They knew that he had her wrapped around his finger — and vice versa, technically — and he’d easily convince her to play along.</p>
<p>“Florence, while Prentiss, Garcia, and Reid should not have gone behind your back and invaded your privacy—” Florence threw another glare at the three in question. “—I believe it would be in your best interest for me to meet this young man before you go out with him alone.”</p>
<p>“Hotch,” she whined.</p>
<p>“You live alone, and I can only assume he is driving you since you don’t have a car. Your father isn’t here to speak with him about your wellbeing. Someone needs to make sure that he is a respectful young man and that you get home safely on Saturday night. I, and I’m sure everyone on this team, cares about your safety. I would feel personally responsible if something happened to you. It would ease my mind to meet him.”</p>
<p>Florence bit down on her tongue and looked back up at the ceiling, clearly annoyed with herself and her emotions. A low growl left her throat. “Shit. <em>Fine</em>. Whatever. I hate profilers, by the way. I’m not a serial killer. You didn’t have to pull out the dad-guilt card knowing full well I see you as a father figure.”</p>
<p>“Aw, you see him as a dad,” Garcia cooed. Morgan rolled his eyes and covered her mouth, not wanting her to ruin the moment.</p>
<p>Hotch flashed a barely-there smile. “Thank you, Florence. We’ll be there well before seven.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>“So, where’s this kid taking her anyways?” Morgan asked.</p>
<p>Saturday had arrived, and the team had just finished up a case in Texas, where the unsub had dissociative identity disorder and was killing spring breakers. It was nearing the time that Reggie was supposed to pick up Florence for their date. While Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia were in the back, the boys were sitting around Florence’s living room waiting for them to finish getting Florence ready. </p>
<p>“Prentiss said that they were going to get dinner at Applebee’s and then go see X-Men, which is being shown in the park,” Reid told them</p>
<p>“Applebee’s and X-Men?” Morgan asked, chuckling. “Not exactly romantic.”</p>
<p>“It’s two goofy teenagers going on their first date,” Rossi said, sipping on a soda he had gotten from Florence’s fridge — they had been momentarily surprised that she had drinks other than Capri Suns in her apartment. “It doesn’t have to be super romantic. Also, Florence loves the mozzarella sticks from Applebee’s.”</p>
<p>“And she loves anything to do with superheroes,” Reid added. “It sounds like a nice first date that’s well-tailored to her interests.”</p>
<p>“Okay, I’ll give the kid that,” Morgan admitted. </p>
<p>“Is it just me, or does Florence have really bad taste in interior decorating?” Rossi asked, looking around some more.</p>
<p>“Oh, it is not just you,” Morgan said, shaking his head. </p>
<p>Florence’s apartment was the opposite of minimalism. It was cluttered with decorations, none of which matched any other once thing in the apartment. Her furniture was just the same. Her living room contained a blue corduroy recliner, a mint green velvet couch, and a loveseat made of a patchwork of different fabrics. There were no two matching chairs. When Rossi had checked her cabinets for a cup, he found each of her plates and bowls were different too. It was all so colorful and so Florence.</p>
<p>“You think it’s this chaotic and unorganized inside her head?” Rossi asked, only partially joking.</p>
<p>“It’s surprisingly clean,” Hotch noted. “Cluttered, yes, but not dirty. I was expecting piles of empty Capri Suns and at least one unidentifiable smell.”</p>
<p>Reid hesitantly sniffed the air. “It smells like the Harry Styles candle.”</p>
<p>Hotch checked his watch. “It’s nearing seven. He should be here soon.”</p>
<p>A moment later, Garcia cleared her throat loudly as she walked into the living room. JJ and Prentiss soon joined her. “Gentlemen, we present to you, Florence Sabin, ready for her first date.”</p>
<p>Florence rolled her eyes at the dramatics and stepped into their view. Each of the men smiled when they saw her, except for Morgan, who frowned and crossed his arms.</p>
<p>“Absolutely not. Go change,” he said, nodding to the door. “You look way too beautiful. He’s gonna get the wrong idea.”</p>
<p>Florence rolled her eyes at his dramatics but smiled. JJ had braided her hair, though left some strands down to frame her face. Speaking of, her face looked nice. The doctor had removed the splint and Prentiss wasn’t exaggerating about her skills with foundation. Other than that, she didn’t have much makeup on. Just some lip gloss and blush. The girls had raided her closet and found a cute white sundress with pink flowers on it. Since they would be outside in the park, they layered a white t-shirt under it to keep her shoulders from getting cold.</p>
<p>Garcia had tried to argue against it, stating that Reggie could offer his jacket if she got cold. But Prentiss and JJ weren’t going to risk the possibility of him not having a jacket to fulfill Garcia’s romantic fantasies.</p>
<p>They finished off her look with a necklace, some rings, and a pair of flats. It was certainly a new look for her coworkers to see her in. Florence usually showed up to work in a baggy t-shirt or sweatpants or both. They could all agree with Morgan though, she looked beautiful. </p>
<p>“Angel Face, she’s not changing,” Garcia told him firmly. “Nothing is ruining the night I have planned.”</p>
<p>Prentiss sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Garcia has some preconceived notions for how she thinks this night is going to go.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. He’s gonna open all the doors for her, pull out her chair at dinner—”</p>
<p>“What if we sit in a booth?” Florence asked though she got ignored.</p>
<p>“He’ll hold her hand and tuck her under his arm during the movie. When he notices that she’s cold, he will give her his jacket—”</p>
<p>“What if he doesn’t bring a jacket?” Morgan was also ignored like Florence.</p>
<p>“And then he’ll bring her home and give her her first kiss goodnight at the door,” she said, sighing dreamily at the end.</p>
<p>Rossi looked at Florence, surprised. “You’ve never been kissed?”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Garcia,” she muttered. “And, no. Surprising, I know, considering the fact that I’m physically flawless and have the confidence of Miranda Priestly. However, I’d rather not discuss it with everyone I work with.”</p>
<p>She walked over to her living room and plopped down next to Hotch on the couch. “You’re not like, missing time with Jack to do this, are you?”</p>
<p>Hotch appreciated that she cared about his time with his son enough to ask. “No. He and Haley are visiting her parents this weekend.”</p>
<p>“Okay, that’s good. I would’ve felt bad if you missed out time with him for something this silly,” she mumbled, smiling.</p>
<p>“We don’t think this is silly,” Hotch told her. He glanced at the others, who had drifted off into their own conversations. “We care about you, Florence. That’s why we’re here.”</p>
<p>“Really? Not because everyone on this team is nosy?”</p>
<p>“Well, maybe a little bit,” he admitted, chuckling. He studied her quietly for a moment. “You know, I was aware already that you saw me as sort of a father figure in your life before you said so the other day.”</p>
<p>“If you’re gonna say something that’s gonna embarrass me, I’ve had a lot of that recently and could do without,” she mumbled.</p>
<p>“I was just going to say that I also see myself as that for you,” he said. “In fact, I’ve often thought that if I had a daughter, she might turn out like you.”</p>
<p>Her cheeks heated up and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “Oh Hopscotch, you flatter me so.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps that’s why Hayley and I stopped after Jack,” he joked.</p>
<p>Florence scoffed and lightly hit his arm. “Damn. Way to roast a girl while she’s already emotionally vulnerable.”</p>
<p>“You know, we really should work on your language,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s been a lot worse recently.”</p>
<p>She snorted, which only hurt a little on her mostly healed nose. “Good luck with that.”</p>
<p>With a few minutes before seven to go, there was a knock at the door. Garcia had overdramatically shushed everyone. Florence rolled her eyes and then nervously went to answer the door. Reggie was on the other side, wearing a black dress shirt and a pair of nice jeans. His hair was combed back and he had a bundle of white daisies in his hand — Florence’s favorite flower. Both of them blushed when they saw each other.</p>
<p>“Hi,” he greeted shyly.</p>
<p>“Hi,” Florence said, laughing a little.</p>
<p>“You look really really beautiful.”</p>
<p>“Thanks. You look really nice too.”</p>
<p>“Are you two just gonna stand in the doorway all night?” Morgan loudly asked from inside the apartment.</p>
<p>Florence closed her eyes in annoyance before giving Reggie an apologetic look. “I know I already texted you and told you about them, but again, I’m really sorry about this.”</p>
<p>“It’s okay,” he said, chuckling.</p>
<p>Florence led him in the room and he was met with the team, who all watched him with very calculating eyes. “Reggie, this is Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, and Aaron Hotchner, but he formally goes by Hopscotch.” She had unintentionally listed them in order of intimidation. “Guys, this is Reggie.”</p>
<p>“It’s nice to meet you all,” Reggie told them, trying to hide how nervous he was. “Ren talks about you guys all the time.”</p>
<p>“Funny,” Morgan said, crossing his arms. “She hasn’t said a thing about you.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, and every time we ask, she tells us to get lost,” Reid asked, smiling awkwardly.</p>
<p>“Maybe that’s because you have a tendency to follow people in vans,” Florence said, giving him a pointed look. Reid stared down at the floor, embarrassed by his actions.</p>
<p>“So, what are your intentions with Florence?” Rossi asked him. Florence couldn’t help but sigh and roll her eyes.</p>
<p>“Um, I’d just like to take Ren out to dinner and a movie at the park. I’ll have her home by—”</p>
<p>“Eleven,” Hotch told him, crossing his arms. “Her curfew is eleven.”</p>
<p>Her jaw dropped. “That was not discussed with me.”</p>
<p>“She’ll be home by eleven,” Reggie said, smiling. He kind of thought it was nice that all these people cared enough to see her off on the date.</p>
<p>“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” Morgan asked, narrowing his eyes. Sure, he had memorized everything Garcia had found online about him, but he still would be interrogating the boy.</p>
<p>“Uh,” Reggie thought for a moment. “I don’t - I’m not sure if this counts as bad, but one time my buddy Luke dared me twenty bucks to steal a shopping cart, hop in it, and let him push me down a hill. We returned it after though. And I broke my arm, but I got the twenty bucks. I’ll do just about anything for twenty bucks.”</p>
<p>Rossi looked at the others and sighed. “Oh my god, there’s two of them.”</p>
<p>“I’m gonna need your license plate number for safety reasons,” Prentiss told him. Sure, she had fun teasing Florence, but she was all business in front of Reggie.</p>
<p>He stuttered for a moment, not expecting that question. “Of course. I - I’m not totally sure what my license plate number is though. I’m not good at remembering stuff like that, but as soon as we get downstairs, I’ll give it to Ren to give to you.”</p>
<p>Prentiss nodded, accepting the answer. </p>
<p>“Where do you think you’ll be in five years?” JJ asked. “Florence will still be at the BAU—” She didn’t mention that that was because she was required to stay there for so many years in order to make up for the whole Pentagon business. “—but what about you?”</p>
<p>“I should have my degree in Music Production by then. That’s just my backup plan though because, in five years’ time, Sunset Curve will have blown up. We'll put out a ton of best selling albums, including an experimental country one. We’re gonna tour the world, and then in 2029, we’ll be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame,” he said, excitedly. “Except, one of us doesn't show up because of a falling out. My money is on Alex, our drummer.”</p>
<p>“Really?” Florence asked. “My money would’ve been on Luke. I feel like he’d pull a Zayn and go solo. He has the potential. He might take Julie with him too.”</p>
<p>As Florence and Reggie had a side conversation about who would leave the band first, the team watched them with interests.</p>
<p>“Isn’t he just the most adorable thing?” Garcia whispered. “They’re so similar.”</p>
<p>“It’s kind of uncanny,” Prentiss agreed. </p>
<p>“And you wouldn’t know it just looking at her, but Florence does have a secret love of country music. She just doesn’t like to tell people about it,” Reid added. </p>
<p>“Do we have any more questions before we let them go?” When Rossi only received shrugs and shaking heads, he cleared his throat to gain the kids’ attention. “Well, we’d better let you two get going. You’ll want to make sure you’re done with dinner in time for the movie. It was nice to meet you, Reggie.”</p>
<p>“You too, Sir,” he said, smiling politely. “It was nice to meet all of you.”</p>
<p>“Wait,” Morgan said, stepping forwards. “I’ve got some rules.”</p>
<p>“Rules?” Florence asked, crossing her arms.</p>
<p>“Don’t add to the population. Don’t subtract from the population. Don’t end up in the hospital, newspaper, or jail.”</p>
<p>“Oh, don’t worry Morgan. If I end up in jail, I’ll establish dominance quickly,” Florence joked. Everyone laughed and it eased some of the uncomfortable tension in the room. “Is that all?”</p>
<p>“That’s all,” Hotch told her. “Have fun.”</p>
<p>Florence smiled and gave a little wave to all of them before pulling Reggie out into the hallway. </p>
<p>“That wasn’t that bad,” Reggie said, grinning. “You made it sound like my life was going to be threatened.”</p>
<p>She chuckled and nodded her head. “That is because I thought your life was going to be threatened. It was also not nearly as embarrassing for me as I thought it’d be. And hey, did Luke really push you down a hill in a shopping cart.”</p>
<p>“Totally,” he said, laughing. “I’ll show you the video when we get down to the car. Also, are you not worried about leaving seven adults alone in your apartment?”</p>
<p>“Eh,” Florence said, shrugging. “They won’t be surprised by anything they find if they go snooping. And Hotch will make sure everything is locked up when they leave.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>As first dates go, Florence and Reggie had a really nice one. Despite Garcia’s predictions, they were seated at a booth at Applebee’s. They split the two for twenty because both of them loved the mozzarella sticks that came with it. Despite Florence’s protest, Reggie paid for the meal.</p>
<p>“I’m paying for the next one,” she had insisted.</p>
<p>“So there’s gonna be a next one?” Reggie asked, grinning. Then he playfully winked and Florence laughed it off.</p>
<p>After that, they went to the park. Reggie brought one blanket for them to sit on while they watched the movie, and another blanket for them to share if they got cold. Florence hadn’t actually been cold, but she still let him wrap the blanket around her. She had ended up tucked under his arm during the movie as Garcia had hoped for. And Reggie held her hand as he walked her back up to her apartment a good fifteen minutes before eleven.</p>
<p>“I had a really good time,” Florence told him as they stopped at her door.</p>
<p>“Me too,” he said. “I’m really glad you said yes. Luke kept messing with me and telling me that you don’t like me like that. Oh, uh, <em>not</em> that I’m assuming you like me like that. You could’ve just said yes to not make me—”</p>
<p>To shut him up, Florence stood on her toes and kissed his cheek, which immediately heated up as she did so. “I um, I do like you like that, actually. You’re free to run and tell Luke.”</p>
<p>“You like me?” he said, with a goofy smile. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. I uh, I like you too. A bunch.”</p>
<p>“Cool,” Florence said, smiling too. “So, would you wanna do this again sometime?”</p>
<p>“Definitely,” he replied, a little too quickly. She giggled at his enthusiasm. “Before I say goodnight, would it be too much to ask for a goodnight kiss?”</p>
<p>Florence bit her lip and nodded. She stood on her toes again and Reggie put his hands on her waist, pulling her closer, which made her heart speed up and she closed her eyes. For a first kiss, it was simple and sweet. Both of them started to smile just a few moments into it and they pulled away. Reggie’s nose brushed against her cheek. </p>
<p>He lent in for another one, and both of them were more confident the second time around. Florence wrapped her arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss. She ran a hand through his hair as her back hit the hallway wall. Reggie dared to slip his tongue in her mouth and—</p>
<p>“Y’all better not be kissing!”</p>
<p>Florence and Reggie pulled away, overcome with shock when they heard Morgan’s voice through the door. They both went red as Florence yanked the door open. Instead of an empty apartment like she expected, everyone from the team was still there. There were empty pizza boxes on her coffee table and they had broken out her The Office version of Clue.</p>
<p>“What are you still doing here?” she asked, glancing around at them all. </p>
<p>“Sunshine, if you thought we were leaving before we knew you were home safe, then you don’t know us at all,” Morgan said, smirking. </p>
<p>“So,” Prentiss said, matching Morgan’s smirk. “It was really quiet out there. Didn’t hear a lot of talking. Wonder what you were doing?”</p>
<p>Rossi chuckled. “Oh, I know what they were doing. I didn’t get three wives by talking to them.”</p>
<p>“No, that’s just how you got the divorces,” Florence shot back. Then she shook her head and turned to Reggie. His cheeks were still red and he was trying to avoid looking at the adults. “I um, I had a great time.”</p>
<p>“Me too,” he said, smiling. “Can I call you tomorrow?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” she said, grinning. </p>
<p>Then she stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. A round of cheers and whistles sounded through the room, but they ignored them. Once Reggie was gone, Florence spun on her heel and glared at the group, though she didn’t say anything. </p>
<p>“Tell me everything,” Garcia said, jumping up from her spot on the couch. “I gotta know.”</p>
<p>“I’m not telling you anything,” Florence decided. “That’s your punishment for following me in a van like a creepy stalker.”</p>
<p>“C’mon, that’s not fair,” she whined. “It’s your first date. I know you’re dying to tell someone about it.”</p>
<p>“I’m not telling you in front of them,” she said while pointing two fingers at Hotch and Morgan. </p>
<p>“Get out,” Garcia immediately ordered them in a low tone.</p>
<p>Morgan laughed. “Baby Girl, you can’t be serious—”</p>
<p>“I gotta know, so you gotta leave,” she insisted. </p>
<p>“Garcia, you and Reid rode here with me,” Hotch reminded her.</p>
<p>“T - then wait in Florence’s kitchen for however long this takes.”</p>
<p>Hotch and Morgan shared a look before leaving the room. They mumbled under their breath about not understanding why Rossi and Reid got to stay and listen, but no one listened to their complaints.</p>
<p>“So,” JJ said, grinning. “Did he kiss you?”</p>
<p>“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”</p>
<p>“That means yes.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. ANTHRAX</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>don't super love this chapter but couldn't not cover the anthrax ep</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>[4.24]</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>“you’re usually the best on the team at staying positive”</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>“Why are you scratching so much?” Morgan asked Florence. She was perched on top of his desk and had been scratching her legs through her sweatpants for several minutes.</p><p>“There were like a million mosquitos in the park the other day,” she replied, frowning. “We all went yesterday so that I could try and teach Alex how to skateboard to impress this guy.”</p><p>“Why didn’t one of you go buy some bug spray once you noticed all of them?” Prentiss asked. “And stop scratching. It’ll make them worse.”</p><p>“I forgot bug spray was a thing,” Florence whispered to herself. “Oh well, at least we’ll know next time.”</p><p>Morgan chuckled and then grabbed her wrist to keep her from scratching. Instead of stopping, she just started rubbing her leg against his desk. “Sunshine, don’t come crying to me when they start bleeding.”</p><p>Florence sighed and stopped her scratching. “I wish mosquitoes would just ask for a sip of my blood politely instead of stealing it and injecting me with their itchy juice.”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s how mosquitoes work,” Prentiss said, grinning and shaking her head.</p><p>“Actually,” Reid piped up. “She’s not far off. A mosquito uses the sharp tip of its straw-like mouth — which is called the proboscis — to pierce a person's skin. It locates the blood vessel and draws blood up through its mouth. As it does this, it injects saliva that contains an anticoagulant. This stops the person's blood from clotting. When a mosquito bite breaks the skin, a person’s body recognizes the mosquito’s saliva as a foreign substance. This causes an immune system response. The swelling around the bite is caused by histamine, which is produced by the immune system. Histamine increases blood flow and white blood cell count around the affected area, which causes inflammation or swelling. Mosquito bites itch because histamine also sends a signal to the nerves around the bite.”</p><p>“See,” Florence said, grinning at Prentiss. “That’s basically exactly what I said.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I missed the part where he used the scientific term “itchy juice” in his explanation,” Morgan said, smirking.</p><p>“You’re mean,” Florence simply said, crossing her arms. Then she uncrossed the, to scratch her leg.</p><p>“Actually, scratching the mosquito bites can make the itching sensation worse,” Reid told her. “I’d recommend applying cortisone cream to the area to reduce the inflammation and help with the itching. JJ has a first aid kit in her office and it may have some in it.”</p><p>Florence happily hopped off Morgan’s desk and kissed the top of Reid’s head, whose cheeks went red. “Thank you, Doctor Boy Genius.”</p><p>|||</p><p>The team was called in suddenly over the weekend. JJ didn’t give them any details and only instructed that they hurried. Prentiss, Morgan, Reid, and Florence all arrived at the same time. Instead of hopping off her skateboard and carrying it, Florence grabbed onto the sleeve of Morgan’s shirt and let him pull her into the elevator.</p><p>“Wonder what kind of case it is,” Florence muttered. “They only call us in on the weekends for the bad ones — like kids and stuff.”</p><p>“Case must be local,” Reid said as they stepped off the elevator. “JJ said not to bring a go-bag.”</p><p>They all paused for a second when they saw that the bullpen was crowded with people in army uniforms. Florence quickly got off her skateboard and held it, looking around surprised. Everyone was talking loudly and running around. Clearly, something bad was going on.</p><p>“What's the army doing here?” Morgan asked.</p><p>“What the hell is going on?” Prentiss asked.</p><p>Florence quickly followed the others as they made their way to the briefing room. JJ was already there with a woman, and Rossi and Hotch soon joined them.</p><p>“Guys, this is Dr. Linda Kimura, Chief of Special Pathogens with the CDC,” JJ introduced.</p><p>“CDC?” Florence muttered with wide eyes.</p><p>“Hello,” Dr, Kimura greeted. “I'm sorry to meet under these circumstances.”</p><p>“What circumstances?” Reid asked.</p><p>“We need to get started,” Hotch said.</p><p>“Last night, twenty-five people checked into emergency rooms in and around Annapolis. They were all at the same park after two p.m. yesterday. Within ten hours, the first victim died. It's now just past seven a.m — the next day, we have twelve dead.”</p><p>“Lung failure and black lesions,” Morgan stated, looking through the files. “Anthrax?”</p><p>“Anthrax doesn't kill this fast,” Reid told them.</p><p>“This strain does,” Dr. Kimura said.</p><p>“What are we doing about potential mass targets — airports, malls, trains?” Prentiss asked.</p><p>“There's a media blackout,” Hotch said.</p><p>“We're not telling the public?” Florence asked, frowning.</p><p>“We'd have a mass exodus,” Morgan said.</p><p>“The psychology of group panic would cause more deaths than this last attack,” Rossi explained.</p><p>“Yeah, and if it does get out, whoever did this might go underground or destroy their samples,” Reid added.</p><p>“Or if they wanted attention and didn't get it, they might attack again,” Prentiss said, siding with Florence. “Doesn't the public have the right to know that?”</p><p>“If there is another attack, there's no way we'll be able to keep it quiet. Our best chance of protecting the public is by building a profile as quickly as we can,” Hotch said sternly.</p><p>“What do we know about this strain?” Reid asked.</p><p>“The spores are weaponized, reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs. Odorless and invisible,” Dr, Kimura explained.</p><p>“A sophisticated strain,” Rossi noted. “Only a scientist would know how to do that.”</p><p>“These lesions are doubling in size in a matter of hours,” Morgan said.</p><p>“It's not the lesions I'm worried about,” Dr. Kimura said. “It's the lungs. We don't know how to combat the toxins once they're inside. And the reality is, we may lose them all.”</p><p>“The remaining survivors have been moved to a special wing at Walter Reed Hospital,” JJ said. “Our offices will become a small command center.”</p><p>“We'll be working with military scientists from Fort Detrick,” Hotch said.</p><p>“General Whitworth is coming here?” Rossi asked him.</p><p>“He's in charge of site containment and spore analysis. Determining what strain this is will help inform who's responsible.”</p><p>“My team is in charge of treating all victims,” Dr. Kimura added.</p><p>“Reid, go with Dr. Kimura to the hospital. Interview the victims. Morgan and Prentiss, there's a hazmat team that will accompany you to the crime scene. Florence, Garcia is already in at work and you’ll follow her lead. There's Cipro. Everybody needs to take it before we go.”</p><p>“We don't know if it's effective against this strain, but it's something,” Dr. Kimura said, handing out little cups with the medicine in it.</p><p>“This is really happening?” Prentiss asked, still not wrapping her head around it all.</p><p>“We knew this could happen,” Hotch said. “We've done our homework. We've prepared for this. This is it.”</p><p>I haven’t prepared for this,” Florence thought frantically.</p><p>“Jin dan,” Rossi said. “May you live a hundred years.”</p><p>She swallowed the Cipro and washed it down with a Capri Sun. It was definitely going to be a long weekend.</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>After running the background checks on each of the victims from the park, Florence and Garcia delivered them to Hotch and to also receive further instructions.</p><p>“This is the list of victims you asked for,” Garcia said, handing it to him.</p><p>“No high-profile jobs,” he noted.</p><p>“No, just ordinary people frolicking in the park,” she said. They followed Hotch to the briefing room with Rossi.</p><p>“Any word from the CIA?” Rossi asked.</p><p>“They said there are a few overseas terrorist groups with funding and capability. They're working International. We've got domestic,” Hotch explained.</p><p>“We need to look at anyone who could profit from this,” Rossi said, turning to Garcia and Florence. “People who have patents on anthrax vaccines.”</p><p>“And add to your list anyone with access to weaponized spores,” Hotch added. “Universities, scholars working in bioweapons research.”</p><p>“Employees of labs who keep germ collections,” Rossi said.</p><p>“We’ll be back in a few,” Garcia said.</p><p>They then headed back to their office to get to work. Before they even had time to finish compiling a list, Hotch and JJ came by to have them look into three other potential victims. Reid thought there might have been a previous attack that just hadn’t been caught.</p><p>“Gale Mercer, thirty-one, Martha Finestein, forty-eight, Albert Franks, fifty-two,” Garcia said, pulling up their records. “What next?”</p><p>“See if they visited the same place on May eighth,” JJ said.</p><p>“Gale Mercer made a credit card purchase at the book front, owned by Albert Franks.”</p><p>“We need to find General Whitworth. He needs to send a team out there.”</p><p>Once Hotch and JJ left, Garcia sighed heavily. “This is bringing up way too many memories of 2001.”</p><p>“What happened in 2001?” Florence asked, opening a new Capri Sun.</p><p>Garcia looked at her surprised. “The 2001 anthrax attacks. Do you seriously not know about that? It was on every news channel for months.”</p><p>“PG, I don’t watch the news now, so why would I watch it as a small child?” Florence said, shrugging. “What happened?”</p><p>“Well, a week after the September eleventh attack, someone mailed letters with anthrax in them to some news outlets and to two Senators. Five people died and several people were infected. They never caught who did it.”</p><p>“You mean you could just open your mail and die?” she asked. “Wild.”</p><p>Garcia couldn’t help but chuckle. Of course, her natural reaction to learning about a terrorist attack was “wild.” After the little history lesson, the two went back to work. Florence was tasked with looking into the book store owner, as well as all customers and employees in the days leading up to the attack.</p><p>But they were distracted when JJ rushed in, bearing horrible news.</p><p>“What the hell do you mean Reid has been infected?”</p><p>She explained that while he and Morgan had been inspecting a house, Reid knocked over a vial containing the new strain of anthrax. Morgan had been outside and wasn’t contaminated. There was no telling if the Cipro that they had taken would do anything to combat the new strain.</p><p>“This thing killed the first three victims within hours, JJ,” Garcia said, biting her lip.</p><p>“Garcia, stop. Please. I - I can't think about it that way,” JJ said, taking a deep breath. “He took Cipro. He's got help. He's gonna be fine.”</p><p>“I'm not good at this part,” Garcia said, getting emotional. “Every time you guys go away, I... I know you're in all kinds of ginormous danger, and all I can do is sit here in my bubble, and I hope and I pray and I will my babies to come back to me. I try to stay positive, but... I don't know how to do this.”</p><p>Florence quietly sniffed, which drew their attention. She hadn’t said much at all since they learned about Reid’s condition. Garcia and JJ hadn’t paid her much attention because of this, so they were surprised to see silent tears rolling down her face.</p><p>“Oh, Baby Girl, don’t cry,” Garcia said, rolling her chair over to her and grabbing her hand. “If you cry, I’m gonna start crying.”</p><p>“Spence is gonna be alright,” JJ said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She was trying to convince herself of it too. “They’re all going to be alright and come home safe.”</p><p>“We’ve got to stay positive,” Garcia added. “You’re usually the best on the team at staying positive, Ren.”</p><p>Florence pulled her sleeve over her hand and rubbed her eyes, and then scoffed weakly. “I’m fine. I’m positive. Reid’s fine. I’m not crying. <em>You’re</em> crying.”</p><p>Once Florence collected herself, JJ spoke up. “If you could do anything to keep your family safe, even if it meant breaking procedure, would you?”</p><p>“Yes,” Garcia answered immediately. “What procedure?”</p><p>“Never mind,” JJ said after a moment.</p><p>Florence studied her for a moment. Something told her that JJ was on the brink of breaking the quiet order.</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>With nothing much to do, Florence stayed in the office curled up in her blanket from Hotch while Garcia waited to further instruction. Later on in the day, they had gotten a call from Reid.</p><p>“Hey, Reid,” Garcia greeted, sounding just as sad as they looked.</p><p>“Gee, wow, no, uh... No witty Garcia greeting for me?”</p><p>She sighed. “I can't be my sparkly self when you are where you are. Florence, wanna try?”</p><p>“Howdy,” Florence greeted in a soft tone.</p><p>Reid smiled weakly on the other end, appreciating the effort. “Garcia, do you think you can do something for me?”</p><p>“Anything.”</p><p>“I, uh... I know I can't call my mom without, uh - without alerting everyone at her hospital.”</p><p>Garcia and Florence shared a sad look. “What do you need?”</p><p>“I, uh... I need you to record a message for her in case anything happens to me.”</p><p>“Nothing’s gonna happen to you,” Florence said sharply. Her eyes started to water again, but she kept the tears back. “You and your perfect brain will find out who did this and the doctor lady will find a way to treat that strain. You’ll be fine.”</p><p>Reid let out a breath. “I hope you're right, but if you're not, I just - I really want to make sure that she hears my voice.”</p><p>“Ok. just, uh, give me a second,” Garcia said, setting up the recording process.</p><p>“Are you ready?” he asked.</p><p>“Ready.”</p><p>“Hi, mom. This is spencer. I just, um… I just really want you to know That I love you and—” His voice caught in his throat. Florence clenched her eyes shut to try and not cry. “I need you to know that I spend every day of my life proud to be your son.”</p><p>He was quiet for several moments, and Garcia checked to make sure he was alright. “Reid?”</p><p>Someone said something in the background, drawing his attention. “I gotta go.”</p><p>After that, Garcia called Morgan to check on the case. He instructed her to patch him through with Reid to ask him more questions before being transferred to the hospital.</p><p>“How's it going in there, kid?” Morgan asked when he picked up.</p><p>“I've seen better days,” Reid said.</p><p>“Well, you got me, Ren and Garcia.”</p><p>“Hey bud,” Florence greeted.</p><p>Reid started coughing, which worried them. “Reid, stick with me,” Morgan told him. “Listen, Prentiss and Rossi don't think the partner was a coworker. Can you tell us anything else about him?”</p><p>“I've already been through everything.”</p><p>“Come on, now, kid, I know you're not thinking straight, but the Reid I know wouldn't stop looking.”</p><p>“All right, all right,” he said, coughing a little more. “I see a, uh, a framed photograph of Dr. Nichols teaching. I see a - I see a binder with syllabi. Course assignments going all the way back to the 1970s.”</p><p>“All right. So he kept a scrapbook of himself as a professor. That tells us that he values himself as an educator,” Morgan concluded.</p><p>“A teacher,” Reid muttered. “I saw something earlier. I didn't - I didn't make a connection to it or to the partner, but he has a study on anthrax. He has an annotated bibliography, table of contents. It's formatted like a thesis and has writing in the margins in red ink, like the way a teacher grades a paper. Now, Nichols wouldn't have let just anyone in here, but he may have opened his lab for educational purposes, as a teacher.”</p><p>“So the partner must have appealed to him as a student,” Morgan realized. “Nichols is helping him with his thesis.”</p><p>“I can look up local Ph.D. students,” Garcia offered. Florence rolled her chair over to see if Garcia got any results.</p><p>“Yeah, check the sciences — Biochemistry, microbiology.”</p><p>“Cross-checking with names of former employees or customers with grievances at the bookstore.” The search came up empty. “Nothing, my doves.”</p><p>Reid began to cough before speaking. “Listen to this. This country is woefully unprepared. Every household should have a two-month supply of Cipro. Hospitals are in need of biosafety level four decon wings.”</p><p>“That's verbatim to what we heard from Nichols,” Morgan said. “The partner's adopted Nichols' views as his own.”</p><p>“The chapters are on setting up triage and mobile emergency rooms. I don't think this paper was written by a science student. It's about city preparedness and response,” Reid told them.</p><p>“So, Garcia, check with students in the social studies,” Morgan said. “Public policy, urban planning.”</p><p>“Hot to trot,” Garcia said, perking up when they got a match. “There's a Chad Brown. School of Public Policy at U of M. Matches a Chad Brown, former employee at the book front.”</p><p>“That's gotta be him,” Morgan said.</p><p>“Totally. He's been in the doctoral program on and off for five years. Nix on a steady job. Was slapped with a restraining order from his former girlfriend and has been arrested and released twice at protest rallies in DC. I'll tell hotch.”</p><p>Garcia left the call, and they dug up all they could about Brown. Then she and Florence rushed to the briefing room to tell everyone else.</p><p>“Chad Brown applied for a civilian position at Fort Detrick four different times,” Garcia explained.</p><p>“His employment application,” JJ said while sliding it to Hotch and General Whitworth.</p><p>“He never got past the psych evals. Is it appropriate to sacrifice the lives of the few to save the many?" Whitworth read off the application.</p><p>“He answered yes,” Hotch stated.</p><p>“Every time. Why he never got hired.”</p><p>“Well, if he couldn't get into Fort Detrick, then being close to Nichols was the next best thing,” Hotch said.</p><p>“We talked to his thesis adviser,” Garcia told him. “In his proposal, he was gonna write about the ease of making homemade anthrax, and interviewed Dr. Nichols just to prove his point.”</p><p>“Get the address to Prentiss and Rossi,” Hotch ordered before leaving with General Whitworth.</p><p>They did end up stopping and apprehending Brown. They managed to talk him down at the subway by making him think they would hire him at Fort Detrick. They managed to get the huge bag of anthrax he had been planning to unleash there. All of the people from the army cleared out of the bullpen.</p><p>They also found the cure to the strain of anthrax in an inhaler. It was given to Reid and the remaining people from the park attack that were alive. The cure worked, and Reid was well on his way to a full recovery. Once they were finished up with all the necessary paperwork, Morgan and Florence went to visit him in the hospital.</p><p>“What flavor is that?” Florence asked. Morgan had taken the Jell-O off of Reid’s tray and started eating it.</p><p>“Strawberry. Want some?” he offered.</p><p>“Nah, I’m not a fan of strawberries.”</p><p>“You don’t like strawberries?” he asked in disbelief.</p><p>She shook her head. “Don’t like the way the seeds feel.”</p><p>Morgan scoffed and then chuckled. “Okay, but this is Jell-O. It doesn’t have seeds.”</p><p>“Still don’t trust it.”</p><p>“Don’t trust it—” Morgan cut himself off and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. More for me.”</p><p>After a few minutes, Reid stirred and opened his eyes. “You're eating Jell-O?” he asked Morgan.</p><p>“Hey, kid,” Morgan greeted softly. Then he looked for Dr. Kimura, who was out in the hall. “Hey, doc. Look who's back.”</p><p>“Is there any more Jell-O?” Reid asked, trying to sit up.</p><p>“Hey. Not so fast,” Dr. Kimura told him.</p><p>“What happened?”</p><p>“You're gonna be alright, kid,” Morgan told him. “And we got Brown. It's over.”</p><p>“How's Abby?” Reid asked, referring to one of the park victims.</p><p>“She's on the mend. So are the three others. You were right about where to look for his cure,” Dr. Kimura told him.</p><p>“Why was Dr. Nichols making anthrax in the first place?”</p><p>“He was a brain scientist downgraded to working on the flu. Brown comes along asking for help on his thesis—”</p><p>“Would have been more than happy to share his knowledge,” Reid realized.</p><p>“There was no indication that Nichols had any idea what Brown was planning.”</p><p>“His strain and its cure are getting locked up in containment at Fort Detrick, with all the other bio-agents people don't know about,” Dr, Kimura told them.</p><p>“Hmm. Really. What else do they have locked up in there?” Morgan asked.</p><p>“Oh, don’t even get me started on conspiracy theories,” Florence said, leaning back in her chair. Then she shot forward. “Too late. They’re covering it all up — New World Order, the Denver Airport, the moon. That was no weather balloon in New Mexico. They’re hiding all the big boys too — Sasquatches, Mothman, Fresno Nightcrawlers. All of them.”</p><p>“Of course you believe in BigFoot,” Morgan said, scoffing.</p><p>“I don’t believe in a singular bigfoot. Based on maps of all the reported sightings in the US, there are two separate species of sasquatch — one from the East side of the country and the other on the West. Though, there is some cross-breeding in the middle.”</p><p>Morgan glanced at Reid. “Pretty Boy, you want to jump in with some statistics to prove her wrong?”</p><p>Reid looked very amused as he looked at a grinning Florence. “Actually, I’d like to hear more of your thoughts on conspiracy theories and cryptids. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything about a Fresno Nightcrawler.”</p><p>Reid did it on purpose, knowing that it would get on Morgan’s nerves while also making Florence happy. Morgan chuckled and had no choice but to sit back as Florence went on a tangent about the creatures while he ate his Jell-O.</p><p>“Okay, so Fresno Nightcrawlers, or as I like to call them, haunted pants…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. CANADA</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>[4.25; 4.26]</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>“i wanna lose and go bother hotch”</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>It was fairly early in the morning when JJ called everyone to the briefing room for a new case. She started off by showing them security tapes. The footage showed a man using his car to drive into the guard shack at the Canadian border crossing. When he got out of the car, they handcuffed him. Then he claimed to have killed ten people and instructed them to call the FBI.</p>
<p>“His name's William Hightower,” JJ told them when the video ended. “He claims over the past month, he's picked ten people off the streets of Detroit, killed them, dumped their bodies across the border in Canada.”</p>
<p>“Has he given up the dumpsite?” Prentiss asked.</p>
<p>“He said he'll only talk to the FBI,” she said.</p>
<p>“Do we have confirmation these people are even missing?” Reid asked.</p>
<p>“Two were reported missing by family months ago, but they all appear to be transients,” JJ explained. “We're having a hard time finding any information on them.”</p>
<p>“Garcia? Florence?”</p>
<p>“Like a bloodhound, sir,” Garcia said, getting up.</p>
<p>“Woof woof,” Florence added before following her to their office.</p>
<p>“Please never bark at me ever again,” Rossi called after her.</p>
<p>Florence and Garcia got to work, finding all they could about the ten victims — of which there wasn’t much. Though the plot thickened when the team arrived and interviewed Hightower. According to him, he wasn’t a murderer. Someone else was taking these people, including his sister who hadn’t been on the initial victim list and killing them. He pulled his stunt at the border to get the FBI involved.</p>
<p>After that, Hotch had Florence and Garcia look into multiple border crossings as well as track where the last phone call from Hightower’s sister had been called from — which had been in Canada. When they had their results, they called him back.</p>
<p>“Go ahead, Garcia,” he said.</p>
<p>“Good news and bad news,” she started off. “I've got IDs on multiple border crosses for the dates in question. Trouble is, I've got hundreds, and as far as I can tell, if your license doesn't ping for any prior felonies, you're pretty much gonna pass go and collect two-hundred Canadian dollars.”</p>
<p>“She's right,” Officer Bedwell said. “Busiest cross in North America. Lot of commercial traffic, trucks mostly. Stop and searches would cause too many delays.”</p>
<p>“So he's got virtually free passage,” Rossi said.</p>
<p>“And once he crosses, there's nothing but woods to hide whatever he's doing,” Reid added.</p>
<p>William Hightower ended up being released into FBI custody in order to help with the investigation. While Garcia looked over more crime reports, Florence tried to help JJ with notifying the victim’s families by actually finding the families. It proved to be very difficult though considering that she didn’t even have last names for a lot of them. Thankfully though, Garcia was not as empty-handed on her end.</p>
<p>“Yeah, Garcia,” Reid greeted when she called him.</p>
<p>“Sherlock, it's Watson. I think I've got something,” she said.</p>
<p>“What do you have?”</p>
<p>“I checked Detroit crime reports over the last month because Derek and Emily astutely thought there might be some sorts of assaults or disturbances having to do with our unsub.”</p>
<p>“And?”</p>
<p>“Well, it's tres weird, but on five of the abduction nights, Detroit PD reports a break-in or a robbery at some type of medical facility.”</p>
<p>“What types of medical facility?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>“We got a hospital, blood bank, medical supply company, the red cross—”</p>
<p>“What is he doing, stealing narcotics?” Reid interrupted to ask.</p>
<p>“That's just it. He isn't some drugstore cowboy. The stuff he took is, like, anesthesia and sterilizing equipment and syringes. Negative on the narcotic.”</p>
<p>“Garcia, where were these places located?” Reid asked.</p>
<p>“Putnam Street, St. Antoine, East Hancock, Martin Luther King Boulevard.”</p>
<p>“Those are all in the Cass Corridor,” Reid said, referring to the homeless district.</p>
<p>“Do you have a list of what else he stole?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>“Uh, IV tubing, infusion pump, units of o-negative blood, chest tubes, o-silk sutures, Elastoplast,” she listed off.</p>
<p>“Garcia, thanks a lot,” Reid said before hanging up.</p>
<p>After a little while longer, the team managed to figure out that welfare checks were somehow involved. With a new lead to follow, Garcia and Florence were able to find where Lee Hightower cashed her last welfare check. There were typically drug dealers who hung around, waiting to sell to people who had just cashed their checks. The team guessed that Lee got into a car with the unsub thinking that he was a dealer.</p>
<p>When they reached the motel that was cashing the checks, he told them about the car that all of the victims had gotten into. A young girl named Kelly Shane had cashed her check and gotten into the same car. When no car matching that description was caught crossing the border, Hightower guessed that the unsub was using the Underground Railroad from the Civil War to get across the border.</p>
<p>Hotch called Garcia and got her to cross-reference maps from the Civil War with Victorian homes near the river. They quickly found it and sent them a location. When they followed the coordinates, There they found the car, which was abandoned, and it was registered to a man named Mason Turner. After getting the address of his farm, they went to search it. They found Mason Turner, but the problem was that he was paralyzed from the neck down and couldn’t even get out of bed.</p>
<p>His physical condition did nothing to throw suspicion off of him though because he had all the stolen medical items and a bin full of bloody shoes. They were now looking at over a hundred victims instead of ten. It was likely that their bodies were fed to the pigs on the farm for disposal.</p>
<p>When Hotch called, Garcia answered the phone in a rather good mood. It seemed as if the case was almost over — they had yet to be informed of Mason Turner’s condition and assumed he had been arrested.</p>
<p>“BAU Tech Center, where you should definitely pay attention to the girl behind the curtain,” Garcia greeted.</p>
<p>“Garcia, I need you and Florence in Ontario ASAP at the farmhouse that the unsub's car was registered to,” Hotch ordered.</p>
<p>Florence sat straighter in her chair and shared a confused look with Garcia. “Yes, sir. What should I bring?”</p>
<p>“We need forensic recovery from a laptop. I'll tell you more when you get here. I don't want this over the phone,” he said. “And the next flight, Garcia.”</p>
<p>“Ok. On our way,” she said, before hanging up. Then she turned to Florence. “Oh, my. Not over the phone. I don't think we're gonna be in Kansas anymore.”</p>
<p>“No,” Florence whined, leaning her head back. “I wanna stay in Kansas. You don’t almost get blown up in Kansas.”</p>
<p>Garcia rolled her eyes while getting everything ready. “I think your chances of getting blown up on this case are slim. And at least you have a go-bag this time.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>Garcia and Florence were in Canada by the next morning. The farm was crowded with police officers and people coming to identify the shoes of past victims. Rossi had called them after they landed and explained the shoes and Mason Turner’s condition, along with his brother’s roll in this case.</p>
<p>With everyone running around, Florence just stayed glued to Garcia’s side and hugged her sweatshirt tighter. She knew that just around the corner were the shoes and the pigs, and she hoped they wouldn’t have to go anywhere near them.</p>
<p>A police officer brought over a piece of paper to Officer Bedwell. “Got it. Your warrant.”</p>
<p>“You can search all his files and hard drives,” Bedwell told Hotch. “Let's go serve it.”</p>
<p>“Great. Garcia, Florence, find me something,” Hotch ordered.</p>
<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
<p>Florence followed Garcia into the farmhouse. Officer Bedwell accompanied them to show Turner the warrant. As he did so, Rossi nudged Florence’s elbow and whispered in her ear.</p>
<p>“Feel free to be your typical annoying self around this guy. I’m not a fan.”</p>
<p>She shared an amused smile with him. Then Rossi walked over to pick up Turner’s laptop.</p>
<p>“That is my personal property,” Turner said angrily.</p>
<p>“Not anymore,” Florence said, grinning. Rossi handed her the computer. “Can’t wait to see what kinds of fun things you keep on here.”</p>
<p>“I showed you the warrant,” Officer Bedwell reminded him.</p>
<p>“I have research on there. Proprietary research. Intellectual property,” Turner argued as if that would help. Florence rolled her eyes and gave the laptop to Garcia. “I helped you. I told you everything I know.”</p>
<p>“If what you've told me is your total involvement, there shouldn't be anything on this computer that you don't want us to see,” Rossi told him.</p>
<p>“Do you need anything, Dave?” Bedwell asked, getting ready to go help outside.</p>
<p>“No,” Rossi said, smirking. “Me and Mason are having a great time. Aren't we, Mason?”</p>
<p>“Once I saw my brother strangle a man so forcefully, blood dripped from his eye sockets,” Turner told them, breathing heavily. “I'm not talking petechiae. Actual dripping blood. He can be very volatile... when things don't go his way.”</p>
<p>“Are you trying to scare me?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>“I'm just saying. You better hurry up and find that girl, or he's gonna tear her to pieces.”</p>
<p>Garcia eyed Turner uncomfortably before moving into another room to get started on the computer. Florence leaned against the doorway and stared at him.</p>
<p>“You’re kind of a dick,” she said to him. Rossi held back a smile and he was glad Hotch wasn’t in the room to stop her from talking to him. “I cannot wait until we find what you’re hiding.”</p>
<p>“I haven’t done anything. Just look at me. You know I’m innocent.”</p>
<p>“Actually, it’d be pretty ableist of me to think you weren’t capable of being a narcissistic asshole just because you’re disabled. I’m quite the progressive thinker,” she said, grinning. Then she turned to Rossi. “I’ll let you know when we’re through his firewall.”</p>
<p>“You won’t be able to. You’re a child.”</p>
<p>Florence excitedly saw the opportunity and took it. “And you’re an ugly, pickley, bitch.”</p>
<p>She knew that eventually, Hotch would find out about it, but she didn’t care as she spun on her heel and joined Garcia. Rossi kept a straight face, but so far she had done a wonderful job at annoying Turner.</p>
<p>Florence sat next to Garcia and watched as she began tearing down Turner’s security system. It wasn’t even that complex, and it was fairly easy for them to get in — Florence had planned to rub it in his face, but then she saw what was on his computer and was stunned. She and Garcia immediately went to Rossi to tell them what they’d found.</p>
<p>“Garcia?” Rossi questioned when he saw tears in her eyes.</p>
<p>“They were doing experiments,” she said slowly.</p>
<p>“Experiments?”</p>
<p>“Unsuccessful ones,” Turner muttered.</p>
<p>“He tried to fix himself,” Garcia said, looking at him accusingly.</p>
<p>“Would it be better if it was all for nothing?” Turner asked as if that excused the murder.</p>
<p>“They were human beings,” Rossi said.</p>
<p>“They were transients and drug users and prostitutes. They were useless to society. I gave them the chance to be part of a cure. To be of use.”</p>
<p>“But that's—”</p>
<p>“That's science,” Turner cut her off.</p>
<p>“No, it isn't,” Rossi told him.</p>
<p>“So you got some information off my laptop. So what? What jury's gonna believe I had the power to kill anyone? I haven't been able to move from the neck down for seven years. Even if you could convict me of something, what punishment could be worse than the life I already lead? Find my idiot brother. Exact your pound of flesh and leave me the hell alone.”</p>
<p>Rossi shared a look with Garcia and Florence, one that told him he might be right. Turner could possibly get away with all of this. Rossi excused himself to go tell Hotch about what they found, and Garcia went back to search his computer for more information. Before Florence joined her, she glared at Turner.</p>
<p>“You know, there’s a lot of people on this planet who would say you’re useless to society too because of your condition. How would you feel if they cut you up and fed you to pigs?”</p>
<p>Turner didn’t say anything to her, which she didn’t mind. Florence scoffed and went back to his computer. They tried to find all they could on Lucas Turner, but very little came up. There was almost no information about him out there.</p>
<p>“Anything else?” Rossi asked, poking his head in the room.</p>
<p>“Nothing that'll help find his brother,” Florence muttered.</p>
<p>“There's a cell phone he calls dozens of times a day, but that appears to be off,” Garcia added. “And I tried to activate the GPS locator on it, but I think it's an old phone, so that's not gonna work either.”</p>
<p>“Will you know if it comes on?”</p>
<p>“I hope so.”</p>
<p>“Keep at it.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Sir.”</p>
<p>Once he left, they went back to going through the computer. Other than tons of disturbing documents of the experimentation, there wasn’t much.</p>
<p>“You know, I probably could’ve stayed in Quantico,” Florence said, leaning her head against the wall. “I haven’t done much other than calling Turner an ugly bitch.”</p>
<p>“Ah, an ugly pickley bitch,” Garcia corrected, not taking her eyes off the screens. “And Hotch didn’t know if it would be difficult to get into Turner’s hard drives. It’s better to have you and not need you rather than the other way around.”</p>
<p>“I still don’t think my chances of getting blown up are zero percent,” she muttered.</p>
<p>Soon, JJ came to check on them. She had a cup of coffee for Garcia and a Capri Sun for Florence that she got from her go-bag. Florence happily made grab-hands until JJ handed it over.</p>
<p>“Hey, how's it going?” JJ asked them.</p>
<p>“Just waiting for—” When Garcia cut herself off, Florence looked at the screen to see that the phone had activated. “Oh, my god. The phone just turned back on.”</p>
<p>Seconds later, there was an incoming call from the number.</p>
<p>“Rossi! The phone is calling in!” Florence shouted while Garcia answered the call and Rossi ran in the room.</p>
<p>“Hello? Hello?” They heard a scared voice say over the line. “My name is Kelly.”</p>
<p>“Kelly, this is Penelope Garcia. I'm with the FBI,” Garcia told her.</p>
<p>“Oh, my god, you have to help me,” Kelly whispered. “I'm somewhere in the woods being held by a man named Lucas, and he—”</p>
<p>“Kelly?” someone called in the background. The rest of the team came into the room.</p>
<p>“And he's — oh, my god! Help me!”</p>
<p>“That's mine!”</p>
<p>“Oh, my god! Please—” After sounds of struggle, the line disconnected.</p>
<p>“The phone's disconnected,” Garcia told them.</p>
<p>“Garcia, can you find the signal?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“No, I - wait. Yes,” she said and began typing furiously. “I'm hooked into the system. I should be able to — Got it. It's just west of here, less than half a mile.”</p>
<p>“That's all you can tell?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>“It's in the woods. There aren't any reference points,” Florence reminded them.</p>
<p>“Get the coordinates to my GPS and let Morgan and Prentiss know in the field,” Hotch ordered.</p>
<p>The team ran off to save Kelly. They got the dogs and went to the coordinates. Lucas was holding Kelly in an underground cellar. JJ stayed back with Florence and Garcia. They listened over the radio and heard that they had found Kelly. Florence sighed in relief and walked away from the computer. She froze when she saw into the other room. Hightower was holding up a rifle and pointing it at Mason Turner.</p>
<p>“JJ,” she called, taking several steps back.</p>
<p>JJ ran into the room with her gun raised. She ordered Hightower to stand down, but he pulled the trigger. As soon as he did, he dropped the weapon and put his hands over his head. As JJ rushed to get a pair of handcuffs on him, Garcia and Florence backed into the room, not wanting to see Turner’s dead body.</p>
<p>“Well,” Garcia said in a shaky tone. “At least you didn’t get blown up.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>The plane ride back to Quantico was a somber one. Both unsubs had been needlessly killed, which only added to the ridiculously high body count. The team was having a rough time, so Florence did her best to cheer them up.</p>
<p>She asked Reid to show her how to play poker just to give him something to do. Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss joined in the game for something to do. However, they didn’t play with real money since she had never played before. Florence offered up her bag of Cheerios that was in her go-bag as make-shift chips — JJ asked why Florence thought that Cheerios was a necessary item for her go-bag, but Florence waved her off.</p>
<p>It turned out that playing poker with Florence was difficult. She had no clue what a good hand was, so the others had no idea if she was bluffing because she didn’t even know if she was bluffing. Each round, she’d just pick a random number of Cheerios to put in the pool. There were several times where she had nothing, but she had managed to win one round early on with a pair of nines and a pair of sevens.</p>
<p>After half an hour, Florence started to get bored with poker, so she impulsively shoved all her cheerios in the center of the table.</p>
<p>“Ren, you haven’t even looked at your cards yet,” Prentiss said, scoffing.</p>
<p>“I’m bored,” she whined. “I wanna lose and go bother Hotch.”</p>
<p>“Please don’t come bother me,” he called from the other side of the plane, not even looking up from his paperwork.</p>
<p>After a few more minutes, everyone made their bets. While Morgan and Prentiss checked, Rossi put a few Cheerios in and Reid put in half of his already large pile. As soon as Florence put her cards down, Reid went pale. Rossi scoffed and shook his head.</p>
<p>“No way,” Morgan said, chuckling.</p>
<p>“You wanted to lose and then played that hand?” Prentiss asked, smirking.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Is this better than Ro-Ro and Spence’s hands?” she asked, yawning tiredly. “I just know it’s what Hallie had in the Parent Trap.”</p>
<p>“Better than — yes, it’s better than our hands,” Reid said, frowning. “A royal flush is the best hand in poker that you can get. The odds of you getting that are six hundred forty-nine thousand seven hundred thirty-nine to one. H - how did you even get that? I - what?”</p>
<p>“You broke him,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>Florence shrugged and grabbed a handful of Cheerios and shoved them in her mouth. “Sorry, Spence. I still quit though. You can have the rest of my Cheerios if you want.”</p>
<p>“No way,” Morgan protested. “If you’re leaving, you split them evenly between us. Pretty Boy already has his card counting advantage.”</p>
<p>“Hold on,” Reid said, smiling softly. He slowly began to move Florence’s Cheerios towards his pile. “If she wants to give me all her Cheerios, then I think we should honor her wishes.”</p>
<p>Florence grinned and left them arguing over who got her Cheerios. It had gotten their minds off the case, which was what she wanted. She threw herself down on the couch next to Hotch.</p>
<p>“Ya did good today, Hopscotch.”</p>
<p>Hotch didn’t say what he wanted to, which was that they could’ve done better. “You did as well. Garcia told me you spent a lot of time worrying that it would be similar to what happened in New York though.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she said, shrugging. “Not a fan of the whole leaving the office thing. Almost got blown up, a serial killer approached us, and now I’ve seen someone get shot. The office is nice and safe.”</p>
<p>“You also can’t call an unsub, what was it? Ah, an ugly pickley bitch,” Hotch said, fighting back a smile.</p>
<p>Florence cursed under her breath. “Who snitched.”</p>
<p>“It was unprofessional,” he said, not giving away who told him. Considering that Rossi was the one who told her to be mean to Turner, so it was likely Garcia. “And if it had been to an unsub that wasn’t paralyzed, he could’ve hurt you. Don’t do something like that again.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” she said, sighing as if it was an inconvenience. “I know you guys are upset about how the case went, but at least you saved Kelly. I mean, she’s close to my age and almost got murdered. Because of you, she gets to go home to her family.”</p>
<p>“Unfortunately, a lot of our victims are close to your age,” Hotch muttered, frowning.</p>
<p>“Can you promise me something, Hopscotch?”</p>
<p>“Whatever you need,” he said, looking away from his paperwork and at her.</p>
<p>“If I ever get murdered—”</p>
<p>“Florence,” Hotch said, not wanting to think about her dying anymore.</p>
<p>She covered his mouth with her hand childishly, which made him roll his eyes. “Please. If I ever get murdered, will you promise to use my body in a Weekend at Bernie’s bit?”</p>
<p>Hotch closed his eyes and let out a very long sigh. “That sounds like something Rossi and Morgan would be interested in. Why don’t you go bother them about the logistics of it.”</p>
<p>“Oh, they agreed to the plan months ago. It’d just mean a lot to me if you were in on it too.”</p>
<p>“If I say yes, can this conversation end?”</p>
<p>“Sure.”</p>
<p>“Then yes.”</p>
<p>“Pinky swear?”</p>
<p>“Are you serious?”</p>
<p>“Serious as a heart attack. And remember, if you break it, my ghost will appear and cut off your pinky.”</p>
<p>“Why would I bother missing my three-year-old when you’re right here with me?”</p>
<p>“Hotch, focus up. Pinky promise?”</p>
<p>“Pinky promise.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. DISTRACTED</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>[5.1]</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>“as long as i get to play iron man”</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>If anyone on the team thought that they’d get a good night’s rest after the Turner case, they were wrong. Not four hours after returning home, JJ called them all back in on an emergency. They all trudged back to work on very little sleep. Reggie, who had already been awake for the day, told her a funny story about Luke over the phone to keep Florence awake during her skateboard ride to work — she probably would’ve closed her eyes and rolled into traffic if not.</p><p>While the team went straight to the crime scene, Florence joined Garcia in their office. For once in her life, she held a can of Pepsi in her hand instead of a cherry Capri Sun in hopes that it would wake her up. Once she arrived, Garcia filled her in on the case.</p><p>The unsub had written a letter to a doctor, claiming that he planned to kill his son. Doctor Barton obviously kept his son hidden, so the unsub was killing one person for every day the kid was kept safe. It was the second victim in two days now. After checking out the recent crime scene, they went to talk to Doctor Barton and his son, Jeffrey.</p><p>The only problem was that Jeffrey overheard them talking about the case and decided to go to school. It was a brave, but stupid attempt to save other lives. While half the team went to the school to protect him, Reid and Prentiss stayed back with Doctor Barton to go over suspects. That was where Garcia and Florence came in. Florence was in charge of doing background checks and Garcia covered all of Doctor Barton’s past surgeries. It was a big order to fill and would take some time. Garcia called Reid in hopes that he could narrow her search parameters more.</p><p>“This guy's a trauma surgeon working a major Metropolitan area,” she explained to him. “We are talking thousands of surgeries.”</p><p>“Confine it to the last six months,” Reid suggested.</p><p>“That's still hundreds.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“Ok, do you want biological information or full medical charts?” she asked.</p><p>“Can you get the full medical charts?” Reid asked.</p><p>“What kind of dumb question is that, Boy Genius?” Florence asked from across the room.</p><p>Garcia grinned. “Agreed. You'll have them in seconds.”</p><p>“Hey, Garcia?” Reid asked before she hung up.</p><p>“Yes, my love?”</p><p>“Has Hotch checked in with you?”</p><p>Florence looked up from her screen, worried about him. It was very unlike Hotch to not show up. In fact, Florence was almost sure it had never even happened.</p><p>“He's not with you?” Garcia asked, surprised as well.</p><p>“He's probably on his way. Uh, thanks for everything. Bye.”</p><p>After Reid quickly hung up, Garcia assured Florence that Hotch had probably fallen asleep with his phone on silent. Neither girl actually believed that though. However, they got back to work, knowing it would take a long time to sort through the medical records, but it would go faster when Florence finished with the background checks.</p><p>Once Florence finished with them and emailed them to Morgan, she got up and stretched. “Hey, I’m gonna go heat up a Hot Pocket in the breakroom before diving into the medical records. Want me to bring you anything back?”</p><p>“Another coffee would be lovely, Angel Face,” she said grinning.</p><p>Moments after Florence left the room, Garcia’s phone rang.</p><p>“Overtime shift. Penelope speaking.”</p><p>“Garcia, it's Emily. I need you to listen really carefully. Something's happened to Hotch,” Prentiss told her.</p><p>“What do you mean, something?” she asked, growing worried.</p><p>“I don't know. I'm in his place. He's not here, but there's blood.”</p><p>“Oh, my god.”</p><p>“I need you to send police and FBI techs here right away. Everyone available.”</p><p>“Uh, do we need an APB?” Garcia asked, trying to think of everything that could help.</p><p>“Only on Hotch. I checked out front. His car's still here. I don't know.“</p><p>“Someone took him?”</p><p>Prentiss sighed. “There's blood, but I can't be sure whose it is. Just get people here.”</p><p>“Ok, I'm sending an army,” she said, about to get to work.</p><p>“Garcia, I'm gonna have to tell Reid because he's expecting me back, but you can't tell the others. They cannot be distracted,” Prentiss insisted. “I didn’t hear Florence say anything. Is she in there with you?”</p><p>“Uh, no, no. She ran to the break room but she’ll be back in a minute.”</p><p>“Okay. Try and keep it from her too. She’ll forget all about the case if she finds out about this.”</p><p>“Okay. Got it,” Garcia said, taking in a deep breath. “No telling anyone. I’m sending help your way.”</p><p>A minute after Prentiss hung up, Florence came back to the office. She had a cup of coffee in one hand and a paper plate with a Hot Pocket in the other. Garcia did her best to hide how nervous she was, accepting the coffee with a smile. Florence didn’t notice anything off as she sat at her desk and shoved the Hot Pocket in her mouth.</p><p>“Ah!” she exclaimed, opening her mouth. She immediately let the piece of HotPocket she bit off fall onto the plate. “The pocket is too hot.”</p><p>A little while later, the phone rang. Florence didn’t even have a chance to look up from the file she was studying as Garcia rushed to answer it.</p><p>“Emily?”</p><p>“No. Sorry, Baby Girl, just little old me,” Morgan greeted. “You're out of luck.”</p><p>“Right. Sorry,” Garcia muttered. He glanced at Florence, who shrugged and went back to her file, figuring that Garcia had just been expecting to hear from Prentiss about their time with Doctor Barton.</p><p>“Did you finish the background check on everyone in the building?”</p><p>“Yeah. Ren finished them and sent the results to everyone,” Garcia said. “Uh, no red flags, no felonies, no connection to Barton.”</p><p>“Ok, well, that's good,” Morgan said. “All right, listen, I gotta go. There's about to be a bell.”</p><p>“All right. Be safe.”</p><p>“Hey. Everything ok?” Florence looked at Garcia and noticed she looked a little worried, but she couldn’t think of what could be bothering her.</p><p>“Yeah. Oh, yeah, I'm just tired.”</p><p>“Yeah, I hear you,” Morgan said, sighing tiredly. “Let's just get this kid home safe and we can all sleep.”</p><p>“Right.” The school bell rang just as Morgan hung up.</p><p>“Man, I do not miss high school,” Florence said, leaning back and closing her eyes. She had nothing better to do. “Also, that HotPocket did nothing for my hunger and it burned my tongue.”</p><p>“Um, I think Anderson came in with donuts this morning,” Garcia told her.</p><p>That was all it took to get Florence out of the office. When she was with Anderson, they usually got into discussions about Star Trek or Twilight, meaning that it would be a while before she returned. That was exactly what Garcia wanted. With her gone, she could call all the local hospitals checking for Hotch.</p><p>After trying several, she found him, though under odd circumstances. She immediately called Prentiss to tell her about it.</p><p>“Talk to me, Garcia.”</p><p>“Okay, I - I called hospitals to see if Hotch had gotten himself admitted to an emergency room.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“He's not listed as a patient, but someone dropped a John Doe off at St. Sebastian Hospital, and that someone's name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan.”</p><p>“It doesn't make sense.”</p><p>“I know. Do you think they got their credentials mixed up?” Garcia asked.</p><p>Prentiss was silent for a few seconds before she realized. “The Reaper. Foyet took Morgan's creds.”</p><p>“Why would he drop him off at the ER?”</p><p>“What hospital did you say again?”</p><p>“St. Sebastian Hospital,” she repeated.</p><p>“I'll call you with an update when I get there.”</p><p>“Who’s in the hospital?” Garcia quickly spun in her chair and saw Florence standing in the doorway. She had a paper plate with three blueberry donuts stacked on it and a worried look on her face. “Did someone get hurt at the school?”</p><p>“Uh…” Garcia hesitated before clenching her eyes shut. “God, okay. Sit down.”</p><p>Florence eyed her as she took her seat. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>“When Hotch didn’t show up for the case, Emily went to his apartment to check on him. He wasn’t there but she said there was a lot of blood—”</p><p>“What!” she exclaimed, jumping back up. “B - blood? What happened?”</p><p>“We still don’t know,” Garcia said, trying to get her to sit back down. “I called all the hospitals, and he’s at St. Sebastian. He was dropped off with Morgan’s FBI credentials.”</p><p>“Why would he have—” Florence managed to realize it even faster than Garcia and Prentiss had. How could she forget when she was still constantly trying to cheer Morgan up about the case. “Oh my god. He was - he was in his apartment. Oh god, what if - what if Hotch is—”</p><p>“Baby Girl, he was alive when I called and checked on him,” Garcia said, reaching to hold her hand. Florence’s eyes had started to water. “Prentiss is going to see him and she’ll tell us his condition.”</p><p>“C - can we go see him?”</p><p>“Once the case is over, you can. Reid’s gonna call the second that they have the unsub. I know it’s hard when we’re worried about him, but we need to focus on protecting Doctor Barton and his son,” Garcia told her.</p><p>Florence sniffed and nodded in understanding. “Okay. He - he’s gonna be fine anyways. He’s fine.” She was clearly trying to convince herself, so Garcia didn’t stop her. Even as she bit into one of the donuts, she muttered that Hotch would be alright.</p><p>Eventually, Florence managed to calm down, though she never stopped worrying about Hotch. She did her best to not picture him in the worst condition possible, but it was hard. Afterall, Foyet had stabbed himself sixty-seven times. There was no telling what he had done to Hotch.</p><p>After a while, they got a call from Reid. Garcia let Florence take the lead as if that would get her mind off of the situation.</p><p>“Florence, I need you to find a patient in the system named Jason Meyers,” he said.</p><p>“Uh, he was admitted January third, on life support,” she read off. “Well, shit.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“He was taken off the ventilator and declared legally dead three days ago,” she explained.</p><p>“Who's his father?” Reid asked.</p><p>“Patrick Meyers. He’s forty-five.”</p><p>“Get a photo into the school immediately. I think he's our unsub.”</p><p>“Yup. It's on its way.”</p><p>Once Reid hung up, Florence turned to Garcia. Now they had nothing to do but wait. The case took a turn when they figured out that Doctor Barton was the target instead of his son. Meyers had been waiting outside of Barton's house and as soon as he came outside, he tried to shoot Doctor Barton. Thankfully, Reid had tackled him out of the way, but gotten shot in the leg in the process. Reid ended up having to shoot Meyers to apprehend him.</p><p>Much to Florence’s relief, Hotch, JJ, and Rossi came to pick her up before they went to see Hotch — Garcia stayed behind, ready to work if needed. They went to St. Sebastian, where Reid was also being treated for his bullet wound, and rushed to where Hotch was being kept.</p><p>Prentiss saw them coming and met them in the hallway while a nurse looked over Hotch. Florence stood on her toes to try and see him better, but couldn’t get a good look.</p><p>“He still isn't conscious yet,” Prentiss told them.</p><p>“You sure it was Foyet?” Rossi asked.</p><p>“He had Morgan's credentials.”</p><p>“Did they catch him on the security cam?” Morgan asked.</p><p>“You could see him dropping Hotch off, but the camera's only on the entrance, so I have no idea what direction he went once he left the hospital,” Prentiss explained.</p><p>“It doesn't make sense for him to have brought Hotch to the ER,” JJ said, frowning.</p><p>“We know Foyet gets off on power and control,” Rossi told them. “Maybe what he wants is for Hotch to know his life was in his hands.”</p><p>“He could do that without risking the hospital,” Morgan said.</p><p>Then the nurse who had been checking on Hotch got their attention. “Agents, he's waking up. Remember, he's weak. Don't push him.”</p><p>JJ put an arm around Florence as they entered the room. As much as Florence wanted to talk to Hotch and make sure he was okay, she knew that asking about Foyet was more important.</p><p>“Where am I?” Hotch asked, speaking slowly.</p><p>“In the hospital,” Rossi told him.</p><p>“How did I get here?” he asked, trying to flutter his eyes open.</p><p>“Foyet drove you,” Morgan said.</p><p>“Can you remember what happened?” Prentiss asked,</p><p>“What did he take?” Hotch asked, not answering the question.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Rossi asked.</p><p>“The reaper always takes something from his victims,” Hotch explained, taking a labored breath. “Do we know what he took?”</p><p>Prentiss thought over what she had seen in his apartment. “There was a page missing from your day planner In the address section, the Bs.”</p><p>“What did he leave?”</p><p>“I don't know.”</p><p>“He also leaves something with his victims.”</p><p>“I looked over your whole apartment,” she told him. “Nothing felt out of place.”</p><p>“Where are my clothes?”</p><p>Prentiss grabbed the hospital bag with his clothes in it and set it on the bed. She pulled out his bloody shirt and he reached for the wallet containing his FBI credentials. He opened it up and saw a picture of Haley and Jack that hadn’t been there before. He sighed and leaned his head back against the pillow.</p><p>“Haley's maiden name is Brooks,” he said. “I always listed her in the Bs in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands. He knows where they live.”</p><p>The team immediately jumped into action. While Florence and Prentiss stayed with Hotch, the others headed to Hotch’s old address to find them. They also had Garcia call in the SWAT team for assistance in case Foyet was there. While they waited, Prentiss and Florence stayed quiet, not wanting to disturb Hotch. Slowly, he started to fall asleep, but then his heart monitor started to speed up.</p><p>“What happened?” the doctor asked, rushing in.</p><p>“I - I don't know,” Prentiss said.</p><p>They made them leave the room, so Prentiss pulled Florence out and they watched, worried from the hallway. They managed to get his heart rate back down and they checked his vitals. Once the doctor and nurse left, Florence went back to her chair. She still didn’t say anything — there was nothing to say until they knew that Haley and Jack were alright.</p><p>It didn’t take too long for them to get an answer to that question. Prentiss took a call and seconds later turned back to them.</p><p>“They’re safe.”</p><p>Hotch sighed in relief and managed to relax back into the bed. Once they knew they were safe, Florence got up to go and get a snack from the vending machine. When she got back to the room, she saw Haley and Jack walking that way. Jack recognized her quickly and grinned up at her.</p><p>“Mommy, this is the girl from the park. Daddy broke her face!” he said, running over to her. “Hi.”</p><p>“Hey, Jack,” Florence greeted, kneeling down to his level. “Nice to see you again, bud.”</p><p>“You must be Florence,” Haley said, forcing a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”</p><p>“You too. Um, Hotch is just in there,” she said, nodding to his room.</p><p>“Thanks,” Haley said. She hesitated before going in. “Will you keep him out here while I speak with Aaron without him first?”</p><p>“Of course,” she said. Once Haley went inside, Florence sat in one of the chairs up against the wall and kept Jack on her lap. “How have you been?”</p><p>“I rode in a police car and they let me run the siren!” he exclaimed excitedly. Florence’s heart broke, knowing he wouldn’t understand what was happening.</p><p>“No way? You ran the siren?” Florence asked, over-exaggerating her excitement.</p><p>“Three times,” he said, holding up three fingers.</p><p>“Three times! That’s so awesome,” she said, grinning. “I wish I could run the police siren.”</p><p>“Maybe the officer who let me will let you if you say please when you ask.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s a smart idea,” she said, nodding her head.</p><p>“I got a new Hulk toy the other day too,” he said, bouncing excitedly. “Now I have all of the Avengers. Maybe you can come over and we can play superheroes.”</p><p>“As long as I get to play Iron Man.”</p><p>“I never like playing as Iron Man.”</p><p>Florence kept her mouth shut again. One day, when he was older, she would chew him out about his distaste for her favorite superhero. For now, though, he was too young. They talked about playing superheroes for a little bit more before Haley came and got him. Florence waved at him before he went to say goodbye to his father for who knows how long.</p><p>Hotch was going through his worst nightmare, and there was almost nothing that any of them could do to stop it.</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>After Haley and Jack left, Florence went back to her chair in Hotch’s room. She didn’t make conversation, she just wanted to be near him. Besides, there was nothing she could say at the moment to make him feel better. They both just rested while in each other’s company. Surprisingly, Florence was the first of them to fall asleep, though she wasn’t plagued by thoughts of never seeing her son again.</p><p>Rossi came in the room and shot an amused smile at Florence, who was curled up and snoring, before talking to Hotch, who was staring at the ceiling.</p><p>“Did you hear what happened this morning?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“We had a situation. Unsub had already killed two people. Said he was gonna keep killing unless a man used his son as bait,” Rossi explained.</p><p>“What happened?” Hotch asked though he didn’t really care.</p><p>“We kept the boy safe. Worked the profile. It was a happy ending. Do you know why I'm telling you this?”</p><p>Hotch hesitated before replying. “Yes.”</p><p>“No other group in the world could have pulled off what your team did in a matter of hours.”</p><p>“I appreciate what you're trying to do, Dave,” Hotch told him.</p><p>“We'll get Foyet,” he assured him.</p><p>“I promised Haley that we would get him, But the truth is, if he stops killing, we have no way of tracking him. He stopped killing for ten years just for the pleasure of watching Shaunessy's life fall apart. What's Jack gonna remember about me in ten years?”</p><p>“Hotch, look at me.” Hotch slowly peeled his eyes away from the ceiling. “I'm telling you, we'll get him. Just look at Florence. She doesn’t even use a hundred percent of her potential on most of our cases. Imagine the effort she’ll put in for you. She’d do anything for you. We all would. We’ll find him.”</p><p>“There’s something else,” Hotch said, lowly. He glanced at Florence. “My bracelet from Florence.”</p><p>Rossi gave him a confused look. “What about it?”</p><p>“I keep it with my credentials. I didn’t notice the first time, but I checked again a few minutes ago. It’s gone. When Foyet put the picture of Haley and Jack in there, he took the bracelet too,” he explained, closing his eyes. “I don’t know—” He cut himself off with a sigh. “I’m not sure what to make of it.”</p><p>“Would Foyet even know about Florence?” Rossi asked, crossing his arms. “He researched the team but never made mention of her. She’s taken precautions so that people can find out important information about her on the internet. You wouldn’t even know she worked for the FBI.”</p><p>“I know, which makes me wonder why he took it,” Hotch said, glancing at Florence again. “What if she’s in danger?”</p><p>Rossi shook his head. “It - it doesn’t fit. What if Foyet made a mistake? What if he saw it and assumed that Jack made it for you? He took it to taunt you even further.”</p><p>Hotch thought it over for a moment. “It’d make sense. I just… don’t want to make the wrong call.”</p><p>“Aaron, you know that people can’t be forced into Witness Protection if they don’t want to. You know her just as well as the rest of us, and she’s way too stubborn to do it if asked. She’d insist on staying and helping.”</p><p>Hotch knew he was right. Florence was way too stubborn, and she cared more about everyone on the team than her own safety. “Do we tell her?”</p><p>Rossi shrugged. “That’s your call. I mean, if you want another bracelet ASAP, then yes.”</p><p>His joke didn’t lighten the mood as he wanted. “I don’t want her to be scared,” Hotch said, looking at her again. “She was terrified in New York and when Rothschild came up to you. And she was nervous about coming to Canada on the last case. She’d try to brush it off as nothing, but she’d never feel safe again. Are we sure that he would assume the bracelet was from Jack?”</p><p>Rossi paused to think it over. He glanced at Florence, who had twisted into a position that couldn’t be comfortable. Nevertheless, she continued snoring peacefully. “We’ll tell the rest of the team and get their opinion. Then we can decide on whether we tell her. But for now, you need to focus on resting and healing.”</p><p>“We have to catch him,” Hotch said, staring at Florence while thinking of Jack.</p><p>“We will.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. WELC HOPSCOT</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>[5.2; 5.3]</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>“are you planning on committing tax fraud”</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>Florence was buzzing with excitement for Hotch’s first day back at work. He had been gone for a whole month to recover from Foyet’s attack. While she had called several times to check-in, she hadn’t seen him in person.</p>
<p>The night before he came back, Reggie and Julie came over and helped Florence make cupcakes. They had tried to make them a pretty purple color, but they ended up turning brown, so they slathered on a ton of icing to cover up their mistake. They spelled out “Welcome Back Hopscotch” on them, but Reggie ended up getting hungry and ate the B cupcake. Then they had no choice but to eat the A, C, and K ones.</p>
<p>When Florence got to work, she left the cupcakes in the briefing room. She gave everyone strict instructions not to eat them until Hotch arrived. Prentiss was supposed to be driving Hotch to work, and they were coming in later than normal, so it would be a while before they could eat them.</p>
<p>Hotch had already mentally prepared himself for the attention he would receive for returning to work. Prentiss had assured him on the drive there that Florence was forbidden from dramatically hugging Hotch — he was fully healed, but they convinced her that a tight hug could hurt him. He was itching to get back to work, so he didn’t care how the team treated him. Soon, they’d get a case and everything would go back to normal.</p>
<p>However, when he walked into the bullpen, he wasn’t met with excited welcome backs and Florence running up to him — not that he wanted that or anything. <em>Definitely not</em>.</p>
<p>Instead of any of that, there was a commotion going on. Everyone in the team was in the bullpen, sitting or standing around all the desks, and looking quite amused. Their eyes were locked onto Florence and Morgan, who weren’t quite yelling at each other, but they weren’t quiet either.</p>
<p>“It’s not that big of a deal,” Morgan told her.</p>
<p>“Not that big of a deal?” Florence asked, scoffing. “You make fun of me all the time for my Capri Suns and then you go and do this?”</p>
<p>“You drink too many of them anyway!”</p>
<p>“Honestly, Derek, you should be ashamed,” Rossi piped up, smirking. Morgan cut his eyes to him, not appreciating him taking Florence’s side.</p>
<p>“In Morgan’s defense, it’s surprising that she even noticed,” Reid stated.</p>
<p>“How would I not notice?” she asked, glaring at him.</p>
<p>“What’s going on?” Hotch asked.<br/>In the back of their minds, they all registered that Hotch was back at work, but they wanted to see how the argument played out.</p>
<p>“Over the last week, Morgan stole eight of my Capri Suns and didn’t tell me,” Florence said, crossing her arms.</p>
<p>“And they were delicious,” Morgan said, smirking.</p>
<p>“I demand retribution,” Florence muttered lowly.</p>
<p>Hotch sighed. “Florence, you’re almost twenty and you’re arguing about Capri Suns.”</p>
<p>“Hotch, either he apologizes or I fight him, and my fists are already up,” she declared.</p>
<p>“I for one would love to see that,” Prentiss said, grinning.</p>
<p>“Florence, you’re not going to fight him,” Hotch said, rolling his eyes. “And Morgan, apologize and replace her Capri Suns.”</p>
<p>Both Florence and Morgan grumbled, not pleased with the compromise. They stared each other down for several moments before giving in and each muttering “fine” under their breath.</p>
<p>“Happy first day back,” Rossi said, grinning and patting Hotch on the back. “Maybe now that you’re back, that’ll stop.”</p>
<p>“With you gone, she’s been spending most of her time with Derek,” Prentiss added. “He picks on her like an older brother and she annoys him like a little sister. We have way too much fun watching to make them stop.”</p>
<p>After Morgan handed Florence ten dollars to cover the drinks, she skipped over to Hotch with a big grin on her face. “Welcome back, Hopscotch! I missed you so much and there are cupcakes made from scratch in the briefing room.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Florence,” he said. Then he tilted his head and gave her a doubtful look. “From scratch?”</p>
<p>Florence puffed out her cheeks then sighed. “Fine, from a box mix.”</p>
<p>Before she could drag him to the briefing room for the cupcakes, JJ rushed out of her office. She announced that they were needed in Louisville and that they would need to brief on the plane. So, Florence bid them goodbye and good luck before joining Garcia in their office to get started with looking up the unsub. Once on the plane, they video-called Florence and Garcia.</p>
<p>“So, our point person in Louisville is Lieutenant Kevin Mitchell,” JJ told them.</p>
<p>Hotch was the last to board the plane, and now that Morgan and Florence weren’t distracted by him, they watched him carefully.</p>
<p>“You look well, sir,” Garcia told him gently.</p>
<p>“Thank you. How long do you have that?” Hotch asked, pointing to the knee brace and crutches that Reid had been sporting since he got shot.</p>
<p>“I'm not really sure,” he admitted. “Welcome back.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Hotch said. “Any other attacks?”</p>
<p>“Um, no, not yet,” Prentiss told him.</p>
<p>“Call's proven hard to track,” Reid added. “He's never had a driver's license, so he's most likely still on foot.”</p>
<p>“Or public transportation,” JJ added.</p>
<p>“He's not gonna take the bus. His face is everywhere,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“Has anyone found a stressor?”</p>
<p>“He just lost his job,” Garcia spoke up. “He's worked at a factory since 1990. Made appliances since forever and not a single promotion.”</p>
<p>“That's a long time to be bitter,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>“Or he doesn't care,” Reid suggested.</p>
<p>JJ shook her head. “Not if he's got a family to feed.”</p>
<p>“Actually, homeboy is a bit of a hermit,” Florence told them. Morgan saw her sipping on a Capri Sun and rolled his eyes. “No wife, kids, or parents.”</p>
<p>“Nothing to live for,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>“So why hasn't he killed himself yet?” Hotch asked. “Sprees usually end in suicide. If he's got nothing to live for, why hasn't he ended it?”</p>
<p>“Because he isn't finished yet. We know he has displaced anger. He took it out on the first victim,” Reid said.</p>
<p>“Well, the stock boy represents someone. We need to know who. Is he military?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“Negative,” Garcia replied.</p>
<p>“Well, he's lashing out for a reason. This guy's got anger, endless targets, and a gun, And he's just getting started.”</p>
<p>Once the team landed, they split up between the police station and the pharmacy where the attack was at. Garcia and Florence were still going through their standard background checks when Hotch called them.</p>
<p>“Garcia, he's been off his antipsychotic for a month,” he said as soon as she picked up. He sounded very angry. “What else did you two miss?”</p>
<p>Garcia’s mouth fell open and she shared a shocked look with Florence. She quickly started to dig up his medical records while Garcia explained themselves. “I'm sorry, sir. I didn't get his medical records yet, so—”</p>
<p>“Well, find them. Find everything.”</p>
<p>“Yes—” He had already hung up on her. “—Sir.”</p>
<p>They quickly found all his medical records, including past medications and the psychiatrist who prescribed the antipsychotics to him. Shortly after they got the information to Hotch, Rossi called to ask about Call’s doctor, who Hotch and Morgan were already on the way to see.</p>
<p>While they did that, Florence went back over Call’s past and found a hitch. They tried to call Hotch, but he never picked up, so they settled for Morgan.</p>
<p>“Yeah, Baby Girl, what's going on?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Where's Hotch? He's not answering,” Garcia said.</p>
<p>“He's outside. He's all right,” he assured him.</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” Florence asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah. What's up?”</p>
<p>“A mystery,” Garcia told him.</p>
<p>Morgan sighed. “Come on, not today, Garcia.”</p>
<p>“I know,” she said, pouting. “Here's the deal. When I missed the antipsychotics—”</p>
<p>“Listen to me,” Morgan cut her off. “That was not your fault.”</p>
<p>“You are ever my champion, sugar, but I believe it was,” Garcia told him. “Anyway, when I did that, we went back to the beginning for Call, except there is no beginning.”</p>
<p>“Wait a minute,” Morgan said, putting the phone on speaker. “Rossi. Say that again. What are you talking about?”</p>
<p>“Darrin Call didn't exist, like, from 1969 to 1975,” Florence explained. “There's no birth certificate, no social security, no identity, nothing until he was six years old.”</p>
<p>“Was he abandoned?” Morgan asked.</p>
<p>“My least three favorite words strung together,” Garcia muttered. “We don't know.”</p>
<p>“My guess is neither does he.”</p>
<p>Rossi went to gather the rest of the team so they could cover the new information about Call. They covered everything from the time he was found in 1975 — he didn’t talk for a year, only ever knew his name, he left Louisville three times in his life but always returned to the same ten-block radius, and he had been hospitalized twice in his life, as well as a list of all his prescriptions and when they were started. Now they needed to try and find out what happened in the first six years of Call’s life.</p>
<p>“Records from child services have him as extremely physically abused,” JJ said. “No signs of sexual assault.”</p>
<p>“That's a miracle,” Garcia said, sighing.</p>
<p>“Either way, the trauma was debilitating,” Reid said.</p>
<p>“Was he running from an abusive home or an abduction?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>“Wouldn't there be a paper trail if it were a kidnapping?” Lieutenant Mitchell asked.</p>
<p>“Garcia, look for unsolved missing children's cases from the 1970s,” Hotch ordered. They quickly got to typing, not wanting to piss him off even more.</p>
<p>“Now, there was a case in Hollow Creek,” Mitchell told them. “Kids were dead, though. Found them in pieces.”</p>
<p>“When was this?”</p>
<p>“'75. Nobody talks about it 'cause they never found the guy. You think Call walked away from there?” he asked.</p>
<p>“It's possible. Garcia—”</p>
<p>“Already sent,” Florence interrupted. She had pulled the case up as soon as Mitchell brought it up.</p>
<p>“Can you find the case file?” Hotch asked Mitchell.</p>
<p>“I'll do what I can.”</p>
<p>Soon, Lieutenant Mitchell came back with the boxes containing the case file and the team started to sort through it. Shortly after, they got another call from Hotch.</p>
<p>“Garcia, everything you can find on a Tommy Phillips.”</p>
<p>“You’ll have it in minutes, Sir,” she said, and then he hung up.</p>
<p>While they searched, Call ended up going to his old orphanage. There, he kidnapped a young boy and drove off. While the team kept trying to figure out Call’s past to find out where he could be going, Garcia and Florence found Tommy Phillips. They immediately called Hotch to fill them in.</p>
<p>“Go ahead, Garcia. You’re on speaker,” he said.</p>
<p>“We found Tommy. He goes by James Thomas Anderson now.”</p>
<p>“Is he local?”</p>
<p>“One county over. Florence just sent you all the address and bio.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Garica, Florence.”</p>
<p>Once he hung up, Florence leaned back in her chair. “At least he said thank you that time. Maybe he’s calming down.”</p>
<p>“Don’t jinx it,” Garcia muttered under her breath.</p>
<p>Hotch and Prentiss went to visit Tommy, and they found out that Call’s father had been the Hollow Creek Killer. That was why no one ever claimed him when he ran away. Morgan called Garcia and got them to search death records for Call’s mother to try and track her back to his father. That was where he was headed with the kid he took. Garcia quickly linked the father and pulled up his lengthy police record. She also sent his address.</p>
<p>The team rushed to stop Call. They did manage to apprehend him and save the boy, however, Call did shoot his father. The only catch was that Hotch had stormed into the house alone, without his vest and gun. It was a reckless move and it worried everyone on the team as well as made them wonder if he was fit to be back in the field.</p>
<p>Nevertheless, the case was over. Once everyone got back to Quantico, Florence met them at the elevator, rocking back and forth on her feet.</p>
<p>“I know you all have a lot of paperwork to get started on, but nothing like a good homemade cupcake to perk you guys up,” she said, leading them to the briefing room.</p>
<p>They all followed, knowing they could use a cupcake. Florence gestured to them with jazz hands once they were all in the room. Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss couldn’t help but laugh when they saw them. The cupcakes were decorated very poorly, with way too much icing on top. That wasn’t what made them laugh though.</p>
<p>“Welc Hopscot?” Hotch read off the cupcakes, tilting his head to see them better.</p>
<p>Florence smiled sheepishly. “I got a little hungry. Not my fault you got rushed to a case as soon as you got back.”</p>
<p>Everyone got their cupcake and filed out of their room to start filing everything. Hotch stayed back. He didn’t take a cupcake — but he’d take one home — and instead watched as Florence shoved one whole in her mouth, icing and all. After she chewed it all, she licked the rest off her lips. Hotch decided not to tell her that she had a glob of blue icing on her nose that she had missed.</p>
<p>“Thank you for the cupcakes, Florence,” he told her.</p>
<p>“No problem,” she said, shrugging. Then she looked down at the floor. “Hotch, how are you?”</p>
<p>He sighed. “I know that I was a bit cross with you and Garcia, and I aplogi—”</p>
<p>“You do not have to apologize,” she said, cutting him off. “I can’t imagine what it feels like to go through what you are going through. So, if you need to yell at me to feel better, then do it. You’re not going to hurt my feelings.”</p>
<p>“Still,” he said, frowning. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you and the rest of the team.”</p>
<p>“We all understand,” she said. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m always here. And I won’t profile you like any of the others.”</p>
<p>“I appreciate that.”</p>
<p>“Alrighty. I’m gonna go knock out my case report. Reggie’s gonna bring Chinese food over for dinner since the case ended.”</p>
<p>“You two have fun,” he told her.</p>
<p>“Will do. Glad to have you back, Hopscotch,” she said. Florence grabbed another cupcake and shoved it in her mouth as she left him alone in the briefing room.</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>A few days later Hotch was in Florence and Garcia’s office with Sam Kassmeyer, who had been assigned to Haley and Jack in the Witness Protection Program. Garcia had pulled up a live feed of Jack in the park, and they watched as he played on the swing set.</p>
<p>“Any closer and the image will distort,” Garcia told Hotch.</p>
<p>“How is Jack?” he asked Kassmeyer.</p>
<p>“He's real smart. Had us in tears. Great kid.”</p>
<p>“Except he doesn’t like Iron Man,” Florence muttered under her breath.</p>
<p>“Haley?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>Kassmeyer sighed. “To be honest, we're moving them to a halfway house.”</p>
<p>Hotch turned to look at him. “I thought you had found a permanent location.”</p>
<p>“Haley made a number of phone calls to her mother. It's all good, but to be safe, we have to move them,” he explained.</p>
<p>“Sam, thank you,” Hotch said, shaking his hand.</p>
<p>“I promise you, No harm will come to them. You just concentrate on getting Foyet.”</p>
<p>Once Kassmeyer left, Hotch turned back to the screen. Haley had gotten Jack off the screen and they started to leave the park. “Happy birthday, buddy,” Hotch whispered.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Florence said, getting his attention. “So, I went into the WP database and triple encrypted Haley and Jack’s case with a DES algorithm. That way, Foyet can’t pull what I did last year on the Jack Vaughn case and find out where they are. There’s not much I can do as long as he stays off the grid, but I can do that.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Florence,” he said, nodding at her.</p>
<p>“Oh, also,” she said, perking up. She grabbed a wrapped present from under her desk. “I got Jack a birthday present. So, when we catch Foyet, you and Jack can have a sick Nerf gun battle. I would like to be invited as well.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>Instead of getting to go home, JJ called everyone in the briefing room for a late-night case. Florence didn’t complain though, seeing as it was raining, and she always hated skating home in the rain. This case also seemed to be in Rossi’s old home town.</p>
<p>“What have we got?” Hotch asked as JJ got started.</p>
<p>“Ben Vanderwaal was killed in Commack, Long Island, last night. Shot at close range, once in the heart, once in the head, .22 caliber shell.”</p>
<p>“They found hair and blood traces From Ben Vanderwaal's wife Heather,” Morgan said, reading off the file.</p>
<p>“But not Heather?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>“No, she's still missing, presumed dead,” JJ replied. “The caliber and placement of the bullets match that of two previous victims. The first, Rita Haslat. Eight months ago she went missing from her home in New Jersey. Four weeks later, she was found in a trash bin.”</p>
<p>“She went from that to this in under three weeks?” Prentiss asked, looking at the photos. “She's totally emaciated.”</p>
<p>“Ligature marks on her wrists and ankles Indicate she was constrained,” Reid noted.</p>
<p>“One in the heart, one in the head. Same as Vanderwaal,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>“Sounds more like an execution,” Hotch stated.</p>
<p>“Then why cut off Vanderwaal's hands postmortem?” Reid asked.</p>
<p>“What about the third victim?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>“Bill Levington. His appearance was certainly altered,” JJ muttered.</p>
<p>“His genitals were missing,” Prentiss saw in the file.</p>
<p>“Fun,” Florence mumbled under her breath. Garcia heard and nudged her to stay quiet.</p>
<p>“Though the method of mutilation is different in each crime, clearly there's a signature,” Hotch said. “The question is, what? Wheels-up in twenty.”</p>
<p>As he got up, Hotch threw a file on the table in front of Reid. “What's this?”</p>
<p>“You told me you were cleared to travel. You lied.”</p>
<p>“Naughty boy,” Prentiss teased.</p>
<p>“Uh, no, I didn't. I am a doctor, so technically, it wasn't a lie,” Reid said, trying to defend himself.</p>
<p>“Ooh, then what would you call it?” Florence asked, grinning.</p>
<p>“Um...second opinion.”</p>
<p>Garcia smiled mischievously at him. “Hmm, you're my bitch now.”</p>
<p>Morgan laughed at Reid’s predicament before leaving for the plane. While Reid got up with his crutches, Florence offered to carry his files to the tech center. Garcia went ahead to get started on the background checks.</p>
<p>“I hope Hotch makes you take the ethics class for lying to him,” Florence told him.</p>
<p>“Somehow, I don’t think it’s quite a big of a deal as when you broke into the Witness Protection Program’s database and uncovered redacted files related to a very important murder investigation,” Reid said, giving her an amused smile.</p>
<p>“Maybe so,” she said, shrugging. “But you could’ve gotten seriously hurt — well, more seriously hurt than you already are. Though, Garcia may kill you if you get on her nerves too much.”</p>
<p>“I think I can handle her.”</p>
<p>Florence smiled to herself, knowing that wasn’t true. While she and Garcia had gotten along really well when she first started working for the BAU, it definitely still took several weeks for Florence and her to become the well-oiled tech duo they were today. Garcia had to get used to sharing her space and Florence had to get used to being on a team and having to communicate with them as she worked. Now, they were adding Reid to the mix, and it would surely be amusing to watch.</p>
<p>Right from the bat, Reid was getting on Garcia’s nerves. As they worked on the background checks, he constantly messed with the stuff around the office and tried to intervene. She hadn’t said anything to him out loud, but Florence knew Garcia would snap eventually.</p>
<p>After they looked into Heather Vanderwaal’s past, Garcia called JJ, who was in the middle of interviewing her. “Garcia?”</p>
<p>“We've been getting to know Heather Vanderwaal,” she said while snatching one of her stuffed animals from Reid, who was playing with it. “I can't tell you her favorite Beatle, but I can tell you she was living la Vida unhappy.”</p>
<p>“What did you find?” JJ asked.</p>
<p>“Her ex-husband took her daughter Allison out of school mid-term,” Reid told her. “After that, Heather cut a check for five thousand dollars to a place called Lewis, Bell, &amp; Peters six days ago.”</p>
<p>“Law firm?”</p>
<p>“Family law,” Florence clarified.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” JJ said before hanging up.</p>
<p>The three of them kept looking into everyone’s past. While they did that, the team figured out that the unsub was likely a hitman of some kind, and Rossi also got some help from his friends in the mob — Florence was definitely gonna ask him about that later. When it was time for them to all look over the case again, they video-called Florence, Garcia, and Reid.</p>
<p>“The removal of the hands is as specific as Rita Haslat's condition was when she was found,” Morgan said, pointing to the mutilated images on their board.</p>
<p>“Just as specific as the removal of Bill Levington's genitals,” Prentiss added.</p>
<p>“There's a message in the mutilations the unsub wants us to know,” Hotch said.</p>
<p>“I got something here that might help us with—”</p>
<p>“Technically, we have something here that might help with that,” Reid said, cutting Garcia off.</p>
<p>Garcia looked at him, clearly annoyed, before continuing her statement. “Bill Levington was involved in a serial rape case. All involving minors, and it never went to trial.”</p>
<p>“Rita Haslat?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“A former—”</p>
<p>“A formal social worker,” Reid said at the same time. He continued to talk over Garcia, who stared at him with an open mouth. The others could see Florence in the back of the video trying not to laugh. “Attained said former status when she was fired from the DCFS for gross negligence. In one of her cases, a seven-year-old boy starved to death.”</p>
<p>“Which explains why Haslat was so emaciated when she was found,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“If all the victims were indicated in crimes against children, then we've found a connection,” Morgan realized.</p>
<p>“One of the unsubs has access to the crimes of the victims and probably works in the justice system,” Hotch said. “Garcia?”</p>
<p>“On it.” Garcia and Reid had spoken at the same time. They started to bicker, so Florence reached over and turned the video camera off.</p>
<p>“Is your name Garcia?” she asked him, narrowing her eyes. Florence giggled, thinking she sounded like an angry parent.</p>
<p>“No,” Reid mumbled under his breath.</p>
<p>Later that night, Rossi’s mob friend, Finnegan, had agreed to help them ambush the hitman known as Bosola. He was waiting in some restaurant while the team was waiting outside. Garcia, Reid, and Florence were linked into their coms system so they knew what was going on. After some time, Finnegan called Rossi, which put them all on edge, hoping something hadn’t gone wrong.</p>
<p>“Why are you calling? You ok?” Rossi asked him.</p>
<p>“I hope you got some good guys out there. This man is a mean son of a bitch,” Finnegan said.</p>
<p>“We're all over. He's not gonna know what hit him,” Rossi assured him.</p>
<p>“Hey, that kid — the, uh, smart one. I could use a little help.”</p>
<p>“That’s me. He’s talking about me,” Reid whispered, grinning proudly. Florence chuckled and pat him on the shoulder.</p>
<p>“Reid?” Rossi called.</p>
<p>“Reid here,” he answered, smiling. Garcia scoffed quietly and rolled her eyes.</p>
<p>“Crossword question. Ten letters. Crater creator,” Finnegan asked.</p>
<p>“Ten letters. Crater creator,” Reid repeated. He thought for a moment, but it didn’t come to him immediately.</p>
<p>“Arctangent,” Garcia answered quickly.</p>
<p>“Did you get that?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>“Damn, she's smart,” Finnegan said before hanging up.</p>
<p>Garcia smiled smugly at Reid, who did his best to not look upset at the fact that she had guessed it instead of him. There wasn’t much time for her to bask in the glory though, because it turned out that Bosola was already at the restaurant. He shot Finnegan and escaped before the team could catch him.</p>
<p>With the help of Rossi, they figured out that a local Judge Schuller had likely hired Bosola to commit the murders. Before they could even track him down, she showed up at the police station. While he was being interrogated, Prentiss talked with Reid, Garcia, and Florence to find out all they could about him.</p>
<p>“Oh-oh, we've got gobs of two-way traffic going on, which means someone is trying to bounce us out,” Garcia told her, typing quickly to stay in the system.</p>
<p>“Ok, Bosola didn't come cheap, so Judge Schuller had to have made some pretty substantial transactions,” Prentiss told them.</p>
<p>“Um, wire transfers to the Cayman Islands, which we all know is sketchy as hell,” Florence said, shaking her head. “Trace ends there.”</p>
<p>“How many? How much?” Prentiss asked.</p>
<p>“June, he debits numerations of nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars every few days. Total of four. He takes a break for a few weeks until he makes his final transaction for the same magic number,” Garcia told her.</p>
<p>“Anything less than ten thousand dollars keeps the IRS off your trail,” Reid added.</p>
<p>“I know that, too,” Garcia insisted.</p>
<p>“I didn’t,” Florence said brightly. “I’ll keep it in mind.”</p>
<p>“Are you planning to commit tax fraud, Ren?” Reid asked, raising an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“I don’t know. I don’t plan my life that far in advance.” She shrugged and opened a fresh Capri Sun. When Reid saw it, he asked for one of his own.</p>
<p>“So, the final payment must be for proof of death,” Prentiss said, focusing back on the case. “That makes fifty thousand dollars the price of a kill.”</p>
<p>“He did that three times over a period of twelve months,” Garcia told her. “But two days ago, he raided his account for one hundred thousand dollars all in one hit.”</p>
<p>“He also closed all his accounts and handed his entire estate over to a victims support group,” Reid added.</p>
<p>Suddenly all their windows closed down and an access denied sign flashed on the screen. “Someone who isn't suffering from too many brainiacs in the high-tech kitchen just bounced us out,” Garcia said, frowning.</p>
<p>“Ooh, I’m gonna bounce right the fuck back in,” Florence said, swapping seats with Garcia.</p>
<p>“Good job. Thanks, guys,” Prentiss told them, before getting up to tell the others.</p>
<p>They didn’t really need to get back into Schuller’s bank account, but Florence didn’t have anything else to do. Reid and Garcia sat back and watched as she broke down the security system. Once she was in, she was able to see the rest of his transactions. They didn’t really help the case, which was almost solved, but she had fun snooping.</p>
<p>“Hey, do you guys just wanna look at random people’s accounts and see what sketchy things they’re doing?” she asked, looking at them over her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Ren, that’s illegal,” Reid reminded her.</p>
<p>She scoffed and leaned back in her chair. “I mean, they’re probably doing more illegal stuff with their Cayman Islands money.”</p>
<p>“More illegal doesn’t make what you do less illegal,” Garcia said, shaking her head. Then she leaned over and removed Florence from the system. “Try it again, and I’ll have Hotch look into more thorough ethics training seminars. Maybe even an in-person one.”</p>
<p>Florence grumbled and sunk down lower in her chair. “You’re just no fun.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>Once the case was over, Reid got to return to his desk. Garcia was happy to have him gone. When everyone got back, Florence made her way to Rossi’s office to check on him. It had been a tough case for him since he had to go to his hometown. She knocked on his door and greeted him with a smile.</p>
<p>“How ya holding up, Ro-Ro?” she asked, leaning against the wall.</p>
<p>“I’m alright. Just glad the case is over,” he said, sighing.</p>
<p>“Yeah. I know you didn’t want to go on it,” she said. “Sorry about Finnegan.”</p>
<p>He nodded in thanks but didn’t say anything else about his deceased friend. “You know, we haven’t had a pasta night in a while. Your technique could use some improvement.”</p>
<p>Florence grinned excitedly. “Tortellini sounds absolutely delicious. Wanna invite the team or just make it some quality Ren and Ro-Ro time?”</p>
<p>“I’m sick of them,” he said, chuckling. “Ren and Ro-Ro time sounds good.” Then he thought for a moment. “Hmm, maybe Hotch can come. He could use a night off of focusing on work.”</p>
<p>“Oh, then I really gotta step up my game. I have to impress him with my cooking skills.”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t really call them cooking skills considering that pasta is the only thing you know how to make, and even then, I do most of the work.”</p>
<p>“Okay, but can we at least tell Hotch that I made it all myself? He’ll be so proud of me.”</p>
<p>“But his proudness will be based on a lie. Are you alright with that?”</p>
<p>“What kind of question is that? Of course, I am.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. MUGGED</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i had original plans for this chapter to be a little angsty, but it ended up being a real fun time.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>“did you almost kill us for mcdonald’s”</strong>
</p><p>
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</p><p>“We’re monitoring the situation, but we’ve not been officially invited on the case,” Hotch said.</p><p>He was in the bullpen with Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi. They were discussing a new murder in the DC area. A prostitute was found shot and her fingers were cut off. Given that it was only one murder, they couldn’t be sure if it was serial or a one-time thing. They would still keep their eyes on the investigation though.</p><p>While they were busy talking, they almost didn’t notice Florence come in for work. Morgan caught her in the corner of his eye though and checked his watch. Surprisingly, Florence had never been late to work before, so he was curious.</p><p>“Hey, Sunshine,” he called before she could quickly walk away. “C’mere real quick.”</p><p>Florence paused before turning around and making her way towards them. When they all got a good look at her, they all frowned. Her jeans had fresh rips in the knees, and they could see that the skin was scraped too. She was also holding her left arm against her stomach. Morgan forgot all about asking her why she was late.</p><p>“Oh, sweetie, did you fall off your skateboard again?” JJ asked. Then before Florence even answered, she rushed to her office to get her first aid kit.</p><p>“Uh, yeah,” she mumbled, not looking any of them in the eye. JJ came back and handed the kit to her, just telling her to return it when she was done. “Thanks, JJ.”</p><p>“Wait, where’s your skateboard?” Rossi asked, crossing his arms.</p><p>“I decided to walk today. Yeah,” Florence said, nodding her head. They all narrowed their eyes. Clearly, her injuries were fresh, meaning she had fallen on the way to work. “I gotta get to the office. Garcia has a ton of files for me to digitize today. Bye.”</p><p>Florence rushed off before any of them could get another word in.</p><p>“I’m no profiler, but that was weird, right?” JJ asked them, looking down the hall Florence disappeared down.</p><p>“Clearly she was on her skateboard when she fell this morning,” Prentiss said, tilting her head. “Maybe it broke and she had to throw it away?”</p><p>“You don’t think she would’ve dramatically made a scene about the death of her board the moment she stepped in the building?” Morgan asked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think she broke it.”</p><p>“She didn’t have her backpack either,” Hotch realized. “She brings her laptop and Capri Suns in it every day.”</p><p>“Hold on,” Rossi said, putting up a hand. “What if someone took it? They knocked her off the board — that explains the injuries. Usually, she doesn’t mind telling us about getting hurt while skateboarding. But someone pushed her off, and she hurt her wrist when she fell. He grabs her backpack and her skateboard and runs away. I think Florence got mugged.”</p><p>“Why in the world wouldn’t she tell us?” Prentiss asked, sighing. “We could try to find her stuff.”</p><p>“Maybe she’s embarrassed,” JJ guessed with a shrug. “Or she just doesn’t want us to make a big deal about it.”</p><p>“I can have Garcia check the street cameras for the route Florence takes to work,” Hotch said, crossing his arms.</p><p>“Guys,” Morgan said, nodding towards the elevator.</p><p>Anderson had a comforting hand on Florence’s shoulder as he led her to the elevator. Garcia was following them and seemed to be fussing at Florence, who was sheepishly looking at the ground. Garcia snapped her fingers and pointed to the elevator. Once Florence and Anderson got on, she made her way to the others.</p><p>“What was that about?” Prentiss asked.</p><p>Garcia sighed heavily. “Florence’s wrist was bothering her when she was typing, so I looked at it. It’s way swollen and bruised. She told me that she fell down the stairs last night but was really sleepy and didn’t think it was a big deal. I know I don’t really have the authority, but I asked Anderson to drive her to the hospital to have it x-rayed. I think it could be broken.”</p><p>“She said she fell down the stairs?” Rossi asked, shaking his head.</p><p>“Yeah. Why? You don’t think so?” Garcia asked.</p><p>“We think Florence may have been mugged this morning and chose not to tell us. They might’ve taken her skateboard and backpack,” Hotch explained. “I was going to get you to check security cameras on her route.”</p><p>“Of course,” she said. “Are you going to ask her about it?”</p><p>“Tomorrow when she’s back from getting her x-rays,” Hotch said. “For now we’ll just look at the cameras. Let me know what you find.”</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>It was bold of Hotch to assume that Florence would take the whole day off. Instead, shortly after everyone started their lunch breaks, she waltzed into the bullpen sporting a new pink cast on her left wrist and bandages on her knees. When she saw the team eating in the briefing room, she headed there.</p><p>“I tried to take her home,” Anderson said to them, running a hand through his hair. “She insisted on coming back and getting you all to sign it.”</p><p>“Thank you for taking her, Anderson,” Garcia told him.</p><p>Once he was gone, they all turned to Florence. Seeing as Reid was the only one she hadn’t spoken to before leaving for the hospital, he spoke up. “How’d you break your arm, Ren?”</p><p>Florence opened her mouth to speak but paused. She realized what they all knew — she had told one story to Garcia and another to the rest of the team. “Just, uh, fell,” she replied, keeping it ambiguous.</p><p>“Fell off of what?” Garcia asked, leaning her elbows against the table. “The stairs?”</p><p>“No, no, Baby Girl,” Morgan said, smirking as he shook his head. “It was her skateboard.”</p><p>Florence rolled her eyes at their act and took a seat in an empty chair. “Does it matter?”</p><p>“Florence, we know what happened,” Hotch told her. “Why wouldn’t you tell us about it?”</p><p>She sighed and leaned her head back. “It’s no big deal. I didn’t want to bother you guys with it. You should be focused on catching serial killers and child kidnappers.”</p><p>“We’re fresh out of those at the moment,” Morgan said, shrugging.</p><p>“Um, isn’t there someone killing prostitutes and cutting off their fingers?” she asked, remembering the news story she saw in the hospital waiting room.</p><p>“Just one body, so local authorities don’t think we’re needed,” JJ told her.</p><p>“Florence, tell us what happened,” Rossi said in a soft tone. “We want to help.”</p><p>Florence crossed her arms and slumped in her chair. “Not much. I was on the way to work. Then I got knocked off my board. He took it and my backpack, and was down the block by the time I got back to my feet. It’s no big deal. I can always buy another skateboard.”</p><p>“W - what about your laptop?” Prentiss asked. “Does it have sensitive information on it?”</p><p>“I mean yeah, but there’s no way anyone could ever guess my passwords. Not even you guys.”</p><p>“You sound confident to be saying that to a bunch of profilers,” Reid noted.</p><p>“Oh, no, she’s right,” Garcia said. “She chose the first password, and I’m sure you guys could look around her apartment or go through her phone and figure it out. But the second one is totally genius. She asked a complete stranger to come up with it.”</p><p>“Yeah, I was in a different state at some restaurant. I asked some dude to come up with a password with at least three different aspects to it. Don’t know his name or why he picked the password he did, and I’ll never see him again. It’s an unprofileable password. The guy who took it will probably wipe it and sell it.”</p><p>“Well, maybe we can find it,” JJ said. “Garcia, did you find anything on the street cameras?”</p><p>“Um, not much. He goes north for two blocks and then he cuts into an alley and the cameras lose him,” she explained. “And I already tried to access the location history in Florence’s laptop, but until it’s turned on, I’ve got nothing.”</p><p>“We’ll keep looking though,” Morgan said. “And in the meantime, I want to teach you some self-defense moves.”</p><p>Florence made a face. “That sounds like exercise.”</p><p>Morgan scoffed. “You were on the soccer team in high school.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I honestly haven’t done any form of exercise or cardio since I graduated. I’d like to keep my streak up.”</p><p>“The gym on the top floor at six am. I’ll be sure to pick you up at your apartment since you don’t have a ride,” he said, smirking. Florence groaned and put her head on the table.</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>“Now, there’s only so much we can cover because of your broken wrist, but you’re not leaving here until we cover the basics.”</p><p>Morgan was true to his word and banged on Florence’s apartment door bright and early the next morning. He had to drag her to the gym to start their first self-defense session. Hotch arrived at the gym before them and was waiting. He claimed that he had nothing better to do, so he came to watch and help.</p><p>“Let’s start with stretches so that you don’t pull any muscles,” Morgan instructed while stretching his arms out.</p><p>“Oh, I don’t have any of those,” she muttered while twirling a piece of her hair. Morgan and Hotch rolled their eyes, but after a few more sarcastic comments, Florence copied the stretches he was doing.</p><p>Then they took turns showing her some of the basic self-defense tactics. Florence was disappointed to learn that the SING method from Miss Congeniality wasn’t one of the ones they wanted her to learn. After displaying them, Morgan decided it was time for her to try one.</p><p>“Okay, I’m going to pretend to be a mugger and you react wisely,” Morgan said, putting his hands up.</p><p>“Cool. Go ahead.”</p><p>He held up his hands in the shape of a gun, which made Florence giggle. “If you want to live, give me all your money,” he said in a low and threatening tone.</p><p>“Bold of you to assume that I both have money and want to live,” Florence said while trying to scratch the inside of her cast.</p><p>Morgan dropped his stance, and Hotch sighed loudly before speaking up. “I’m going to have to report that comment to HR.”</p><p>She groaned and threw her head back. “C’mon, Hopscotch. That’s just the humor of my generation.”</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>The week following Florence being mugged was rather uneventful. Morgan insisted on keeping up the self-defense lessons, which she slowly started to take more seriously — though she wasn’t good at disarming him by any means. She denied everyone’s offers to drive her to work every day. Florence was already researching new skateboards to buy, so she didn’t mind walking for a few days.</p><p>On Monday morning, the majority of the team was in the bullpen, discussing the fact that a second body had shown up. It was another prostitute with her fingers cut off, so they were expecting to be invited by local authorities any day now. They were interrupted though when Florence came in for the day.</p><p>She rolled off the elevator on her skateboard with a big grin on her face. She stopped at Morgan’s desk and hopped off to show them the newly returned board.</p><p>“You got it back,” Reid stated, raising an eyebrow. “What happened?”</p><p>“Yo, it was awesome,” she said, hopping on Morgan’s desk. “So, I’m walking to work right. And who do I see across the street? The mugger bitch on my skateboard—”</p><p>“Language, Florence,” Hotch muttered, though he too wanted to hear the story.</p><p>“Did you just run up and take it back?” Prentiss asked, frowning. “Or did he recognize you and try to attack you again?”</p><p>“Ooh, did you use the new moves I’ve been teaching you?” Morgan asked, grinning. She didn’t have any new injuries, so if that was the case, he had done a good job teaching her.</p><p>“Nope,” she said, snapping then pointing at him with finger guns. “I tackled him and then bonked him over the head with my cast. He went down <em>so</em> fast. Then I grabbed my skateboard and the backpack and came here.”</p><p>They all narrowed their eyes at the big black backpack that she had slung over her shoulders. “Florence. That’s not your backpack,” Rossi said slowly.</p><p>“I know,” she said, grinning.</p><p>“You stole his backpack?” JJ asked, dropping her jaw.</p><p>“He stole mine,” Florence said, shrugging. She took off the backpack and put it on top of Morgan’s desk. “I’m just hoping my laptop is in here. If not, I’ll drop it off where I bonked him.”</p><p>“Ren, a second crime doesn’t cancel out the first crime,” Hotch said, rubbing his forehead.</p><p>“Let’s play a game,” she said, ignoring their disapproving looks. “I feel around and try to guess what all is in here.”</p><p>None of them stopped her as she reached in the back. Seconds later, her face lit up and she was pulling out a laptop — her laptop.</p><p>“Awesome!” she exclaimed. “Clearly, I made the right choice.”</p><p>“That is highly debatable,” Prentiss said. “Alright. You got your laptop back. Time to return his bag to where you found it, well, took it.”</p><p>Florence ignored her and reached in the back again. She made a face as she grabbed on to something. “Hmm, it’s something made of metal. Maybe like a paperweight or something? Anyone wanna guess?”</p><p>No one made any guesses, not wanting to let her think they approved of her actions. Florence shrugged and pulled it out.</p><p>“Oh my god, that’s a gun!” she yelled. Everyone jumped up and looked at the gun in her hand, though she quickly tossed it down on the desk, not wanting to touch it.</p><p>“That’s why you don’t tackle people on the street because they might pull out a gun and shoot you,” Morgan said, narrowing his eyes. “I’ll have Garcia look it up and see who it’s registered to.”</p><p>Florence nodded and put her hand back in the back. Rossi scoffed. “You just pulled out a gun and you still wanna dig through this guy's stuff?”</p><p>“I’m nosy,” she said, shrugging. She grabbed another item and made a concentrated face, trying to figure out what it was. “It’s something in a plastic bag. Maybe like a snack — feels like carrots.”</p><p>Florence screamed — like a real, horror movie scream — when she saw what she was holding. Immediately she dropped it and stumbled back into Reid, who caught her. The backpack had been knocked over and they all stared down at the contents with wide eyes.</p><p>“That’s fingers. That is a bag of fingers. Oh my god, I touched a bag of—” Florence cut herself off and hugged Reid tighter.</p><p>The other immediately went into their profiler modes and got to work. After putting on gloves, Hotch picked up the bag of fingers while Morgan took the gun, and Prentiss and Rossi started going through the rest of the backpack.</p><p>“We need to get these to a lab and see if the DNA matches either of the two prostitutes,” Hotch said, before making the necessary call.</p><p>“Oh god, I bonked a serial killer on the head. He could've killed me,” Florence muttered, running a hand through her hair.</p><p>“Florence, we need to get you with a sketch artist,” Prentiss told her. “Tell us absolutely everything you can remember about him.”</p><p>“Uh, uh,” she said, closing her eyes. “H - he was wearing a blue hoodie. It had some, uh, some company logo on it. I don’t remember what it said though. I t - think it had a house or a big building or something on it. It was a white dude, probably Rossi’s size.”</p><p>“Garcia will check the street cameras. She might can enhance the image and see the logo. He could work there,” Reid said. JJ ran off to go let Garcia know what was happening.</p><p>Florence got moved to Morgan’s desk chair, as she was still processing what happened. It was a good thing he only killed prostitutes or he might have murdered her on both occasions. And she had done a lot of impulsive, dumbass things in her life, but bonking a secret serial killer on the head with her cast definitely took the cake — not only was it stupid, but it had hurt her broken wrist too.</p><p>“Talk about illegally obtained evidence,” she muttered under her breath.</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>By the end of the day, they had a name for the unsub. His name was Bruce Kelly, and he worked as an electrician for a chain of motels in the DC area. He had in fact been the one killing the prostitutes and cutting off their fingers. The only problem was tracking him down. He wasn’t at his registered address.</p><p>Until they caught him, Florence wasn’t allowed outside on her own. When they hit their dead end and called it a night, they decided that Florence would go home with Hotch. Morgan would also come for added protection just in case Kelly came after her for taking his backpack.</p><p>“Can we get McDonald’s for dinner?” Florence asked from the backseat of the SUV.</p><p>“There’s food at my apartment,” Hotch said in a stern tone.</p><p>“Fine,” she mumbled. “I just think that the best way to set a good vibe for a sleepover is to have some chicken nuggets.”</p><p>“Florence, this is not a sleepover,” Morgan said, shaking his head. “You got mugged by a dangerous serial killer, then mugged him back, knocked him out, and stole his backpack. You are in actual danger until we catch him.”</p><p>“Eh,” she said, waving it off.</p><p>Morgan and Hotch shared an exasperated look. After she got over the initial shock of the bag of fingers, Florence went back to her normal self. Of course, she didn’t argue with them about not letting her go anywhere by herself, but she wasn’t acting nearly as fearful as she could’ve.</p><p>“I mean, I took him down pretty easy the first time around,” she had said, shrugging. “One bonk and he was out. Morgan should have no problem kicking his ass when you find him.”</p><p>“Oh, also,” Morgan said, looking back at her. “Even after we catch him, I don’t want you walking or skateboarding to work every day.”</p><p>“Why not? It’s perfectly safe.”</p><p>“Everything you’ve done this past week has proved how not perfectly safe it is, actually,” Hotch said, pulling into the apartment building.</p><p>“Well, I’m not taking the bus cause I hate the bus, and I’m not going to ask any of you guys to pick me up before work every day,” she said, getting out of the car with her go-bag.</p><p>“Here’s an idea,” Morgan said. “You could drive to work like the rest of us.”</p><p>“I don’t know how to drive.”</p><p>“The obvious solution to that problem is to learn,” Hotch told her. He let them into his apartment while turning off his alarm system. “I could teach you.”</p><p>“Well, I mean, I would teach her,” Morgan said. “Since <em>I’m</em> the one that suggested it.”</p><p>Hotch gave Morgan a pointed look while Florence watched from the couch she had thrown herself down on. “I am the better driver, Morgan.”</p><p>“I think we both are good drivers.”</p><p>“I think we all sing,” Florence muttered. Of course, neither grown man understood her Victoria Justice reference, which made her roll her eyes.</p><p>The two bickered for a long time about who would teach her to drive, while Florence sat and watched from the sidelines, thoroughly amused. Eventually, they made a compromise and decided they would both teach Florence to drive as soon as Kelly was caught.</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>“Okay, now get on the interstate.”</p><p>“But Hotch said <em>not</em> to go on the interstate.”</p><p>“It’s fine. You’re ready. Get on the interstate.”</p><p>“Morgan—”</p><p>“Hotch, it’s my turn in the front seat so she has to listen to me!”</p><p>“But she’s drifting into the other lane.”</p><p>“Did you know that there were thirty-three thousand six hundred and fifty-four deaths due to car crashes last year?”</p><p>“Not the time, Pretty Boy — Florence, stay inside the damn lines!”</p><p>“Can I get off the interstate now?”</p><p>Driving lessons were an absolute nightmare. Hotch and Morgan disagreed on almost everything, and for some reason, Reid had tagged along for the ride and kept telling them different statistics about vehicles at the worst times. Florence was very overwhelmed, and on top of that, they had taken her out at lunchtime on a Saturday, so there were tons of other cars on the road. As soon as she had pulled out of the parking lot, she forgot everything they had made her read in the driving manual.</p><p>After the horrible interstate incident, Morgan and Hotch switched seats. Hotch directed Florence out of the city to roads that were less crowded. Everyone managed to calm down, and they could go back to practicing the basics.</p><p>“Okay, now you pulled up to the four-way stop sign at the same time, so which of you gets to go first?”</p><p>“Me, cause I’m in the bigger car.”</p><p>Before Florence could step on the gas, Hotch grabbed the emergency brake. He had done that a lot, much to her annoyance. Half a second later, the other car sped through the intersection. He let up on the brake and gave her a stern look. “No, not you because you have the bigger car.”</p><p>“The car on the right-hand side gets to go first,” Reid added from the backseat.</p><p>“Why would the law say that the biggest car gets to go first?” Morgan asked.</p><p>“We’ve established dominance with our big black SUV. That Honda Accord wouldn’t have stood a chance in a collision, so, therefore, they should’ve known to let me go first. Driving is all about confidence and intimidation.”</p><p>“Why on earth would you possibly think that?” Hotch asked, frowning.</p><p>“Rossi told me that.”</p><p>“First off, Dave is a terrible driver with horrible road rage and that’s why we never let him,” Hotch said, shaking his head. “It’s also why he wasn’t invited.”</p><p>“Well, woulda been more fun with him,” Florence mumbled under her breath. “Okay, now what?”</p><p>“Take the next left and we can practice switching lanes and passing cars,” Hotch said. “And just a reminder that your blinker is right there on the left. Feel free to use it.”</p><p>“Derek never uses his blinker,” she muttered. In response, he kicked the back of her seat. She turned around to glare at him. “Stop it, Der.”</p><p>“Look at the road!” Hotch exclaimed, reaching over to turn her head the right way. “This is somehow more stressful than I thought it'd be.”</p><p>“Really?” Reid asked, smiling. “This is almost exactly what I pictured.”</p><p>“Well, you may be stressed, but I’m having a fun time. It’s like my adorable brother, my annoying brother, and my dad are all teaching me how to drive,” Florence said, slowly getting into the left lane.</p><p>“I’m the adorable one, right?” Morgan asked, leaning forward.</p><p>Florence scoffed before taking one hand off the wheel to shove his face back with her cast. She surprisingly managed to do it without swerving in her lane.</p><p>“You’re definitely the annoying one.” She glanced at Hotch, about to ask him for more directions, but noticed that he suddenly looked very sad. “W - what? Why do you look sad? This is fun. Hopscotch, you aren’t supposed to be sad.”</p><p>Hotch was silent for a moment and he looked up at the ceiling like he was trying not to cry. Florence kept looking between him, the road, and the guys in the rearview mirror in distress.</p><p>“I just… can’t help but wonder if I’ll be able to teach Jack how to drive when he’s old enough,” he said, looking out the window.</p><p>Florence bit her lip. She had been trying so hard to keep Hotch’s spirits up since Haley and Jack had been moved into hiding. Now here he was, wondering if it would ever be safe enough to see them again, all because she needed to learn how to drive. She gripped the steering wheel tighter and leaned forward. Time to do what she does best — distract people to make them forget that they are momentarily sad.</p><p>Suddenly, she sped up in order to make it past a stoplight that had turned yellow. Instead of continuing straight, she popped a U-turn, going way too fast. Morgan and Reid yelled from the backseat and Hotch grabbed the handlebar attached to the ceiling as the tires squealed loudly. Florence ignored the honking cars and kept going.</p><p>Florence grinned and pulled into the destination — the McDonald’s drive-thru.</p><p>“Welcome to McDonald’s. What can I get for you?”</p><p>Reid pried himself off of Morgan, who glared at the back of Florence’s seat. “Did you almost kill us for McDonald’s?”</p><p>Florence shushed him before leaning out the window. “Hi. Can I please get four Chicken McNugget Happy meals? Three with a boy toy and one with a girl toy. Sprite to drink for all of them.”</p><p>Reid hesitantly leaned forward. “Actually, can I get apple slices and milk with mine?”</p><p>Morgan slapped his arm while Florence nodded. “Actually, make one of those with milk and add apple slices please.”</p><p>After she got the total and they moved up in line, she looked at Hotch, who was glaring at her and still gripping the handlebar tightly. “What?”</p><p>“<em>What?</em> You just made an illegal U-turn into oncoming traffic, then crossed three lanes and pulled into the McDonald’s drive-thru all without using your blinker,” he said, taking in a deep breath. “Get out. I’m driving us home.”</p><p>Florence hid her grin as they got out and swapped positions in the middle of the drive-thru. All signs that Hotch had been sad were gone, and he was now back to being annoyed at Florence. And he wouldn’t admit it, but the Happy Meal had really hit the spot.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. CARS</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>when you gotta add one last fun chapter before foyet shows back up</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>[5.7]</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>"we are having a ren and reid book club as soon as you get back, mister"</strong>
</p>
<p>
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</p>
<p>“Why do you have a drumstick shoved in your cast?” Reid asked when Florence took her seat in the briefing room. JJ had just called them in for a case, and they were some of the first ones there. Florence had had her cast on for about a month, and it was covered in signatures and drawings from everyone she knew.</p>
<p>“Oh, uh, Reggie stole it from Alex and gave it to me to use as an itching stick,” she explained. “I really appreciate it. I was using a pencil, but I lost it. This thing is way too big to lose.”</p>
<p>“You… lost it?” he asked, tilting his head.</p>
<p>“I mean, it’s not lost. It’s in there somewhere,” she said, shaking her arm. “Guess I’ll get it back when they cut this bad boy off in a few weeks.”</p>
<p>“Is the pencil the only thing you’ve lost down there?” Hotch asked, glancing at it.</p>
<p>“Um, there’s at least a nickel and coffee stirrer in here. There’s a tube of chapstick in there too, but that’s on purpose. I keep it where I can reach it for whenever I need it.”</p>
<p>He made a face, thinking about how gross it probably was. Hotch refrained from asking more questions as everyone filed in the briefing room. Once everyone had a seat, JJ got started, going over the specifics of the case.</p>
<p>“The latest victim is Tara Farris, twenty,” she said while passing out the files. “She's the third victim in two weeks. All found on freeway off-ramps by commuters.”</p>
<p>“Well, he's not hiding them,” Hotch noted.</p>
<p>“An LA freeway during morning rush hour? He wants them found,” Rossi said.</p>
<p>“Quickly.”</p>
<p>“Well, they're still dressed. That minimizes the shock value,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“Maybe he's concerned for them. Think he wants them taken care of?” Reid asked.</p>
<p>“No signs of sexual assault on any of the victims,” JJ told them.</p>
<p>“Look how pale she is,” Rossi observed.</p>
<p>“I mean, she is goth,” Florence muttered. Though it likely wasn’t just makeup making her look that shade.</p>
<p>“All of them were severely hypovolemic. Tara had less than a pint of blood in her,” JJ said.</p>
<p>“Look at this,” Reid said, looking at the file. “The first two had more than three pints each. If exsanguination is the goal, the unsub is definitely becoming more proficient.”</p>
<p>“This is new. Tara's the only victim to have a written message,” JJ said. She clicked her remote and the screen showed a picture of Tara’s arm, which had “The Liar” written in blood.</p>
<p>“The liar," Hotch read aloud.</p>
<p>“The liar. That's strange, isn't it?” Prentiss asked. “Not a liar or just liar.”</p>
<p>“So what did you lie about, Tara?” Morgan asked.</p>
<p>“All of the victims appear to have been strangled and then bled out through identical wounds in the throat,” JJ said. Florence leaned forward excitedly when she saw the pictures.</p>
<p>“Wait — seriously, are those supposed to be fang marks?” Prentiss asked, scoffing.</p>
<p>“All of the wounds on the victims were covered in saliva,” JJ told them. “Human saliva, as though—”</p>
<p>“Someone drank their blood,” Reid realized.</p>
<p>Hotch sighed. “Florence, don’t—”</p>
<p>“Vampire! Vampire unsub. It’s about time the government investigated them,” she said, practically bouncing in her chair. “Pack it up, Edward Cullen. You’re being replaced.”</p>
<p>“She’s gonna be like this the whole case, isn’t she?” Rossi asked the others.</p>
<p>“My money is on a werewolf plot twist that completely changes the details of the case at the most crucial moment.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>Once the team was on the plane, they called Garcia and Florence to continue going over the case.</p>
<p>“So they've already set up a task force in Los Angeles,” JJ told them after getting off the phone.</p>
<p>“This isn't their first serial case,” Rossi said.</p>
<p>“You remember Detective Owen Kim?”</p>
<p>“From the stalker case,” Hotch responded to JJ.</p>
<p>“You remember that case, don't you, Spence?” she asked in a teasing tone. Florence looked away from her keyboard and towards the others.</p>
<p>“I do remember that case,” Reid stated.</p>
<p>“Yeah, you ever talk to, um, Lila anymore?”</p>
<p>“Ooh, who’s Lila?” Florence asked, grinned into the camera.</p>
<p>Reid awkwardly cleared his throat. “You know, I think we should probably focus on this case right now. It's a little more pertinent.”</p>
<p>There was a short, uncomfortable pause, which piqued Florence’s curiosity even more. “Fine, I’ll find her myself,” she muttered, pausing her routine background search to instead find out who this Lila was.</p>
<p>“All right, so tell us about blood-drinkers, Reid,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>“Human blood consumption, or clinical vampirism, is known as Renfield's Syndrome, named after the insect-eating character in Bram Stoker's novel Dracula,” he replied.</p>
<p>“Are they sadists?” Prentiss asked.</p>
<p>“Not necessarily. Pain to the victim is usually only a byproduct. Blood is the focus. Renfield's syndrome is usually accompanied by varying levels of schizophrenia and occasionally more classic cannibalism If the condition evolves,” Reid explained.</p>
<p>“Classic cannibalism,” Rossi repeated. “Lovely job we have.”</p>
<p>“I will say this, true cases are exceedingly rare,” Reid told them.</p>
<p>“That's comforting. Sort of,” JJ murmured.</p>
<p>“Holy shit, Lila Archer is <em>hot</em>,” Florence muttered, leaning on her elbow and staring at her screen. “Sorry, uh, keep going. Keep going. But also, way to go, Boy Genius.”</p>
<p>Reid blushed and then Garcia pulled them back towards the case. “Renfield's may be rare, but vampires are anything but. And there's a huge subculture in Los Angeles of the red-drinking undead.”</p>
<p>“Why is that not a surprise?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>“Garcia, all these people drink blood?” Morgan asked.</p>
<p>“Au contraire. they mostly just dress up like Prentiss did in high school and they make-believe,” she said, making Florence giggle. “It's all kinds of delicious.”</p>
<p>“It's not the same thing at all. As a matter of fact, we should refer to this unsub as a vampirist, not a vampire,” Reid said. “And they would be attracted to the subculture merely for its professed worship of blood.”</p>
<p>“Ok, I'm going to continue spelunking through the various online sites. See if anything jumps up and bites me,” Garcia said.</p>
<p>“Thanks, Baby G—” Morgan stopped himself from calling her the nickname, something that had been deemed “inappropriate” since he took the position of acting Unit Chief. “Thanks, Penelope. Stay close.”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir,” she said, grinning. “Garcia out.”</p>
<p>“Hey, wait,” Florence said, shoving her face close to the camera. “If you guys meet a small-town cop who looks like Charlie Swan, tell him to call me.”</p>
<p>“What about Reggie?” Prentiss asked, grinning.</p>
<p>“Oh, he’s very aware that I’d leave him immediately at the chance to be with Charlie Swan and he completely understands.”</p>
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</p>
<p>Once the team got to LA, they split up. Rossi and Prentiss went to Tara’s apartment to try and see if there were any clues. They did find her laptop and immediately got Florence and Garcia on the phone. The laptop was taken back to the precinct, where they got remote access to it so that they could search it.</p>
<p>“I always feel skeevy going through someone's life like this,” Garcia muttered.</p>
<p>“I don’t,” Florence said, making grab hands for the keyboard. Garcia playfully rolled her eyes and passed it to her, which she then used to type in the password.</p>
<p>“Ok, so everything looks like it's password-protected, so you might not even be able to—” JJ cut herself off, seeing the desktop appear. “You're in already, aren't you?”</p>
<p>“The password was Cullen,” Florence said. Garcia chuckled and leaned back to watch.</p>
<p>“Of course,” JJ said, smiling.</p>
<p>“Colon?” Reid asked, looking away from the whiteboard.</p>
<p>“Cullen,” JJ corrected. “The vampire family from Twilight."</p>
<p>“What's Twilight?”</p>
<p>“Oh my god,” Florence muttered, looking at him in shock.</p>
<p>“Do you ever read anything other than technical books?” JJ asked him.</p>
<p>“Not much in English,” he said.</p>
<p>“We are having a Ren and Reid book club as soon as you get back, mister,” Florence said extra loudly into the microphone. Garcia then pulled her back in her seat.</p>
<p>“Okay, We’ll see what we can dredge,” Garcia told them. “My love is strong.”</p>
<p>“Okay, thanks,” JJ said before hanging up.</p>
<p>Garcia and Florence quickly got to work digging through Tara’s website. They also finished looking into the loves of the other two victims. It ended up not taking too long to find out how they were all connected. With that, Florence started her digging on the singer. Before they could dial Prentiss to tell her, she called them.</p>
<p>“Speak to me, vision,” she greeted.</p>
<p>“Garcia, give me everything you've got on a singer named Dante,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“Dante, the vampire guy?” Garcia asked. “I was just about to call you.”</p>
<p>“You know him?” Morgan asked.</p>
<p>“Uh, he's the one thing that all of our victims have in common.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” he asked.</p>
<p>“They have cyber shrines set up for this guy. They worship him. They're obsessed with his music,” Garcia explained.</p>
<p>“Well, his new album comes out today and it's called The Liar,” Prentiss told them.</p>
<p>“We know,” Florence said, frowning as she looked over the fan sites. “And that was what was written on them.”</p>
<p>“Ok, uh, all of our victims, including the first two, were diehard fans,” Garcia said. “Tara and Gina — that's Tara's friend — they were practically running his fan club.”</p>
<p>“What about Erin Hickman, our latest victim?” Prentiss asked.</p>
<p>“We’ve not seen that name,” Florence told them.</p>
<p>“Ok, we need to talk to this Dante guy,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>“Florence, can you get us an address?” Prentiss asked.</p>
<p>“That's gonna take a little while,” Detective Kim stated. “These celebrities are protected by layers of privacy—”</p>
<p>“22423 Greenvale Circle, Holmby Hills,” Florence interrupted him. “GPS coordinates are uploading to you now. And his name is Paul Davies, by the way. Which like, no wonder he changed it to Dante.”</p>
<p>“Run him for a criminal record, too,” Prentiss added.</p>
<p>“You got it,” Garcia said.</p>
<p>“Thanks, PG, Ren.”</p>
<p>Once they got to the address, Prentiss called, asking them to run a license plate through the system. It ended up belonging to Erin Hickman, the latest victim. They brought Dante in for questioning. After that, Garcia called to let Prentiss know she had found past domestic violence charges for him, though they were expunged. While Prentiss interrogated him, JJ went to check on Tina’s friend, Gina.</p>
<p>Of course, it ended up that Gina was the unsub, and was being manipulated by Dante’s manager. It was all to produce album sales. Once they were both apprehended, the team go on the plane and headed back.</p>
<p>“It never ceases to amaze me how dark obsession can get,” Prentiss muttered, taking her seat.</p>
<p>“And with a pop star,” Rossi said, scoffing. “I mean, I was obsessed with the Rat Pack, but I wouldn't have killed for Frank or Dean.”</p>
<p>“No, you just drank whiskey and smoked cigars,” Hotch said, smirking.</p>
<p>“This from the man who's favorite record Is the Beatles' white album,” Rossi teased.</p>
<p>“Just because Manson hijacked it doesn't have to ruin it for the rest of us,” Hotch told him.</p>
<p>“Speaking of pop stars, did you guys know that Florence once tackled a man in a mall that she thought was Niall Horan?” JJ asked, grinning.</p>
<p>“No she didn’t,” Prentiss said, grinning.</p>
<p>JJ nodded. “She saw him and got so excited, so she ran to hug him. Except she ran into him so hard that they fell over, and that was when she realized it wasn’t him.”</p>
<p>“She told me about that,” Reid said, smiling. “She’s apparently banned from a mall in Seattle because of it.”</p>
<p>“The fact that that story is believable is very telling of her personality,” Rossi said, chuckling.</p>
<p>
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</p>
<p>“Do you know what kind of car you’re looking for?” the salesman asked.</p>
<p>After Florence had passed her driver’s exam — by the literal skin of her teeth — Hotch and Rossi agreed to take her car shopping. Reggie tagged along for moral support, and he was currently walking by her side, swinging their intertwined hands back and forth as they walked through the dealership.</p>
<p>“I mean, maybe it’s because we just finished the vampire case, but I’m kinda wanting the red Emmett Cullen Jeep,” she stated, eying said car which was in a spot a few yards away.</p>
<p>“You’re not buying any of the twilight cars,” Rossi said, rolling his eyes.</p>
<p>“Also, Jeeps are known to be quite unreliable and unsafe due to how easy it is to roll them,” Hotch added.</p>
<p>“I think green cars are fun,” Reggie spoke up, grinning.</p>
<p>Hotch was there to make sure she made a safe choice, Rossi was there to make sure she made a classy choice, and Reggie was just there to hold her hand and pick out the neat cars.</p>
<p>“Do you have any Honda CR-Vs we could test drive?” Hotch asked the salesman, whose name was Dennis.</p>
<p>“That’s a mom car,” Florence whined. “What about, just, like, a stupid big truck?”</p>
<p>“A Prius, perhaps?” Hotch asked, completely ignoring Florence. “We’d like something reliable and with lots of safety features. Definitely the safety features.”</p>
<p>Dennis thought for a moment. “Now, we don’t have any cars that are both safe and green, but I do have a Toyota Camry in yellow. The new model comes out next month, so I could get you a good deal.”</p>
<p>“Don’t buy a yellow car, Florence,” Rossi said, frowning. “<em>Please</em>.”</p>
<p>“What are the specs?” Hotch asked Dennis, ignoring the others as they had a side argument about what colors were good or not. He did pull Florence out of it and made her listen though.</p>
<p>“It’s the latest model. It has a rearview camera, which is standard in cars today, along with lane departure warning, hands-free Bluetooth for taking calls, forward collision warning, automatic emergency braking, pedestrian detection, blind-spot monitoring, and a driver alert monitoring system. Of course, it’d be better to showcase all those features in a test drive.”</p>
<p>“Does it have heated seats?” Florence asked, rocking back and forth on her feet. Hotch wanted to bring up the fact that that shouldn’t matter, but he reminded himself that it would be Florence’s car.</p>
<p>“Ooh, and a rockin’ sound system,” Reggie said, throwing an arm around Florence’s shoulder. She nodded in agreement.</p>
<p>“He’s right. Gotta be able to blast my Sunset Curve CD,” she said, grinning.</p>
<p>Reggie smiled and kissed the top of her head. Rossi and Hotch wouldn't admit it out loud, but the young couple was a little cute.</p>
<p>They did end up taking the Camry on a test drive — Florence and Reggie had absolutely loved the canary yellow color. No one wanted to stay behind, so Rossi, Hotch, and Reggie had all climbed in the back seat to ride along.</p>
<p>The safety features did prove to be nice. One of the features made a loud beeping noise if she changed lanes without using her blinker, something that Hotch loved about the car. While the exterior was in his opinion tacky, Rossi had to admit that the leather interior was nice. And Reggie had pulled his band’s demo CD, which he always carried with him, and got Dennis to play it for them.</p>
<p>Florence liked the car a whole lot, and that was the one she ended up going home with. She had made her very first big adult purchase, which was nice to say. And now the team wouldn’t have to worry about her skateboarding past any more murderers on the way home from work every day.</p>
<p>“Now I can order a license plate that says SCRAPPY-DOO,” she said, swinging her new set of keys around her finger.</p>
<p>“That’s too many letters,” Hotch told her.</p>
<p>“I’ll cut some out and make it work.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. FOYET</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>[5.9]</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>“you know, that sweet little bracelet is quite a trophy”</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>“Please state your name and rank for the record.”</p>
<p>“Florence Sab—”</p>
<p>“Speak up, please.”</p>
<p>Florence looked up from her lap and towards the recording device on the table while clearing her throat. “Florence Sabin. Technical Analysts for the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia,” she stated. She avoided Erin Strauss’ gaze and instead stared at her cast, focusing on the doodle of Captain America that Jack had drawn on the previous day.</p>
<p>“And how long have you been a member of the BAU?”</p>
<p>“Almost a year and a half,” she muttered.</p>
<p>“Have you worked under SSA Aaron Hotchner the entire time?”</p>
<p>Florence thought it was stupid to ask all those questions. They had everything on record, but she went along, not wanting to say the wrong thing and get Hotch in even more trouble. “No ma’am. I’ve been reporting to the Acting Unit Chief, Derek Morgan, for the last several weeks.”</p>
<p>“Who took over the unit because Agent Hotchner's ability to lead the team had become compromised,” Strauss stated as if it was a fact instead of an opinion.</p>
<p>“It was to my understanding that he voluntarily stepped down so that the team could continue to do their jobs unhindered and without constant scrutiny from above,” Florence said, frowning. Clearly, Strauss was trying to fit this interview to her own agenda.</p>
<p>Straus pursed her lips at Florence’s answer before continuing. “And how would you describe Agent Hotchner’s behavior recently?”</p>
<p>“Incredibly determined.”</p>
<p>“Determined?”</p>
<p>“Yes, determined. There’s not much else in your life to think about when a serial killer goes after your wife and child. Agent Hotchner, and this entire team, was determined to track down Foyet and apprehend him.”</p>
<p>“But he wasn’t <em>apprehended</em>, was he?” Strauss asked rhetorically. “Do you think Agent Hotchner acted unreasonably?”</p>
<p>Florence leaned her elbows on the table and stared Strauss down. “I think that an innocent woman had already been killed, and had Agent Hotchner not stopped Foyet, then a little four-year-old boy was going to be next.”</p>
<p>Strauss sighed. “Miss Sabin, you like working for the BAU, correct?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” she answered immediately.</p>
<p>“Then I need you to understand that unless I can reconcile an adequate account of Agent Hotchner’s investigation into George Foyet, everyone’s position on this team is in jeopardy, including yours. And do you remember the agreement made when we hired you at the BAU?”</p>
<p>Florence paused and glared down at the table. “Under probation for three years, and am subject to immediate termination and would face prison time for my actions before being hired if I were to step out of line during the probationary period.”</p>
<p>“Miss Sabin, you have proven to be an exemplary employee, and I am trying to help you to remain here. But in order to do that, I need you to give me an accurate account of your role in the Reaper investigation.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Everything picked back up once Foyet mailed that stuff to Karl Arnold in prison. Penelope Garcia and I were already tracking the number of prescriptions that Foyet had to take, but then SSA Jennifer Jareau realized that we didn’t have to track all of them.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>Florence was in her desk chair, spinning in slow circles while Garcia and Kevin ate their breakfast together. Kevin had brought in donuts and was thoughtful enough to bring two blueberry ones for Florence, who scarfed them down unhealthily fast.</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” Kevin asked Garcia, waiving the donut topped with bacon in front of her face. “Bacon doughnut. You'll never be the same.”</p>
<p>Garcia made a disgusted face. “I can totally think of more palatable ways to up my adventure quotient, thank you.”</p>
<p>Kevin chuckled before biting into it. “OMG. It gets better every time.” Florence chuckled at his enthusiasm.</p>
<p>Suddenly, Hotch and JJ stormed into the room. “Kevin, you need to leave right now,” Hotch ordered. Garcia immediately stood up and Florence gripped her desk to stop spinning, while Kevin gathered his things to leave. “The Foyet letters came from Fredericksburg, Virginia, and Westminster, Maryland.”</p>
<p>“We can match the prescription drugs Foyet can't substitute with a geographic profile of the two cities,” JJ added.</p>
<p>“Can't substitute?” Florence asked, not sure what they meant by that.</p>
<p>“We need you to track the drugs that can't be emulated with over-the-counter drugs and can only be dispensed by a pharmacist, and you need to do it quickly. Foyet doesn't stay in one place very long,” Hotch instructed.</p>
<p>“Then Kevin needs to stay,” Garcia insisted. Florence had no complaints, knowing a third person would make the search go even faster.</p>
<p>“What?” Kevin asked, turning away from the donuts.</p>
<p>“Sir, Kevin is an amazing analyst. We’ll be able to work almost twice as fast with him running part of my system,” Garcia said. Florence nodded to back her up before turning to her computer to get started.</p>
<p>“Fine,” Hotch agreed. Garcia pointed at the screens for Kevin to work on. “Garcia, now long?”</p>
<p>“I'll know once I get into it.”</p>
<p>“We're gonna work the geographic profile. Call me when you have something, and hurry.”</p>
<p>Once Hotch and JJ left, Garcia started instructing them what to do. “Uh, ok... I am gonna start with the Ultram — No, you're gonna start with the Ultram and Naproxen. Florence and I will work on the rest.”</p>
<p>They quickly made their way through the lengthy list of medications that Foyet was on. Several of them ended up being interchangeable with over-the-counter medicines. Each time they crossed a new one off the list, they let the other two in the room know.</p>
<p>“Naproxen is available in generic brands over the counter,” Garcia stated.</p>
<p>“Naproxen's properties can be simulated by Aleve,” Kevin added. “Ultram can be substituted.”</p>
<p>“Ok, Oxycontin,” Garcia said, moving to the next one.</p>
<p>“Jeez, he's on that, too?” Kevin asked, shocked.</p>
<p>“Yeah, and it's highly addictive and therefore regulated, so there's no substitute for it,” Garcia said.</p>
<p>“No, actually,” Florence said, shaking her head. “It’s actually pretty easy to get it on the streets. Take it off the list.”</p>
<p>Garcia didn’t have time to ask her how she knew how to buy Oxycontin illegally. “You’re right. Up next is Tapazole.”</p>
<p>“What's that?” Kevin asked.</p>
<p>“Uh, it treats hyperthyroidism,” she told him.</p>
<p>“Hey, what's wrong with this guy, anyway?” Kevin asked.</p>
<p>“He stabbed himself,” Florence muttered. “Like, a lot.”</p>
<p>“Stabbed himself?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, so his body would have permanent internal damage — Work, honey,” Garcia snapped when she saw Kevin stopping to think it over. “And he'd need this prescription to regulate his heart rate, keep down the palpitations and the tremors. And there is no substitute for Tapazole.”</p>
<p>“So if this is our missing link, how do we find him?” Kevin asked.</p>
<p>“Print out every person who's on this prescription within a sixty-miles of both cities,” she ordered while getting up. “The team will do the rest. Florence, bring your laptop.”</p>
<p>Florence grabbed her computer and she and Garcia ran to speak to the team in the briefing room. As soon as they got there, Florence sat down and opened her laptop back up.</p>
<p>“Ok, me, Ren, and the boy found a thyroid medication that has no substitute over the counter. You've gotta get it from a pharmacist. But a lot of people are on it,” Garcia explained.</p>
<p>“Find the midpoint between the two cities and isolate names in a twenty-five-mile radius,” Rossi stated.</p>
<p>“One hundred and fifty-three names,” Florence narrowed down.</p>
<p>“Well, he's not gonna use his own name,” Morgan said. “What kind of aliases should we be looking for?”</p>
<p>“He could have easily stolen someone's identity,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“No, he's a narcissist in love with his own mythology. He'd use a name connected with the case,” Hotch explained.</p>
<p>“A victim, maybe, a cop,” Rossi added.</p>
<p>“Okay. Checking the Foyet files for a list of names,” Florence muttered while typing. “Nothing.”</p>
<p>“Wait a minute, guys. Foyet likes things to have meaning to him. The eye of providence, the addresses in blood he wrote on the bus that led us back to him. Maybe he's doing the same thing with the alias,” Reid said while writing Foyet’s name on the board.</p>
<p>“Like an anagram or something,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>Reid studied the name for several moments, trying to rearrange the letters, but he kept coming up empty.</p>
<p>“Reid, he named himself the Reaper,” Hotch suggested.</p>
<p>He tried it with the Reaper, and a few moments later, he had sorted the letters. “Peter Rhea,” he said, turning to the team.</p>
<p>Florence quickly scanned the list. “There's a Peter Rhea in Arlington,” she said while pulling up the address.</p>
<p>“We found him,” Rossi muttered.</p>
<p>The team called in a SWAT unit and they surrounded Foyet’s apartment. They had to be sure that he was inside before storming in so that they wouldn’t tip him off. But when they did rush the building, he was already gone. He had somehow found out they were coming and fled. He left behind his laptop, which was in the middle of wiping its hard drive. Garcia and Florence quickly gained remote access to try and undo it.</p>
<p>“This bitch is good,” Florence muttered under her breath. “Gotta give him that.”</p>
<p>‘How good?” Reid asked.</p>
<p>“He wiped his hard drive,” Garica told them. “Might have been in a hurry to leave, but whatever was on there, he did not want us to see it.”</p>
<p>“Garcia, tell me that you and Florence are hacked in and that you can rebuild it,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>“Watch me work, darling,” she said. Then an alert popped on the screen. “Hello.”</p>
<p>“What have you got?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“He had an internet alarm on the name Peter Rhea,” Florence said, sighing. “It alerted him as soon as we ran a check on it.”</p>
<p>“What else did he wipe?”Hotch asked.</p>
<p>They pulled photos from the drive and they flashed quickly across the screen.</p>
<p>“Garcia, wait a minute,” Morgan said. “Freeze it right there.”</p>
<p>Florence’s stomach dropped at what they saw. They were surveillance photos of Kassmeyer, the Marshal in charge of Haley and Jack. Hotch immediately called him, but he never picked up.</p>
<p>“We're gonna need to deploy another swat unit,” Morgan told them.</p>
<p>“That's gonna take another half hour,” JJ said.</p>
<p>Hotch immediately left and the team followed after. Garcia and Florence shared worried looks, hoping that everyone stayed safe. While the team went to find Kassmeyer, they tried to pull more from Foyet’s hard drive.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, Foyet had already been to Kassmeyer’s house. He had tortured him for information on Haley and Jack, but he didn’t give him anything. When Hotch rode with him in the ambulance, he learned that Foyet took his phone. He called Haley and told her that Kassmeyer and Hotch were both dead. He instructed her to get rid of her cellphone and meet him with Jack somewhere.</p>
<p>While the team notified the Marshal Service, Garcia and Florence worked on tracing Kassmeyer’s phone, which was still turned on. It was odd that Foyet didn’t turn it off, making Florence think he wanted to be found. When they got a hit, they called JJ, who told the rest of the team.</p>
<p>“Garcia's got a trace,” she told them.</p>
<p>“He's bouncing between a few towers,” she said.</p>
<p>“Where?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“Fairfax county.”</p>
<p>“Send the coordinates to my phone,” Hotch ordered.</p>
<p>“Done.”</p>
<p>“He's still local?” JJ asked. “Why isn't he on his way to New Jersey?”</p>
<p>“Wait, that phone's on?” Prentiss asked.</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“Hotch,” she called, but he was already gone.</p>
<p>“He hung up,” Florence muttered. Then she leaned forward and stared at the screen with wide eyes. “Guys, Hotch is calling him. He’s calling Foyet.”</p>
<p>Garcia set the call up so that everyone on the team could hear it.</p>
<p>“Agent Hotchner,” Foyet greeted.</p>
<p>“If you touch her—”</p>
<p>“Be gentle, like I was with you?” he taunted. “What the hell took you so long? I was beginning to think this phone was dead or something. Why so quiet? You usually lash out when you're frustrated.”</p>
<p>“I'm not frustrated. You're more predictable than you think,” Hotch said with a level tone.</p>
<p>“Am I?”</p>
<p>“You didn't know where Haley was, so you made her come to you.”</p>
<p>“You make me sound lazy.”</p>
<p>“Just another way for you to show control,” Hotch said.</p>
<p>“Oh, that's terrible.”</p>
<p>“Your mother tried to protect you from your father, but she wasn't strong enough. And you hated her for that, didn't you?” Hotch stated, sticking to the profile. “You decided that all women were weak.”</p>
<p>“Those are your words, not mine,” Foyet said.</p>
<p>“What were you, nine when you killed them?”</p>
<p>“It was a car accident—”</p>
<p>“That you couldn't take credit for. That had to be hard for you. But poor George got another chance. The little orphan was saved by the wealthy, sterile Eastside couple, the Foyets. And the story should have ended there.”</p>
<p>“I don't believe in fairy tales. Do you?”</p>
<p>“That's the thing, George. This isn't a fairy tale. You don't have to write this story. You don't have to do any of this. I know you're exhausted. Always looking over your shoulder. Always wondering when the other shoe is gonna drop. Haven't you gotten what you wanted? You've set yourself apart from anybody we've ever dealt with. You're not just a famous serial killer, you're the reaper. We're gonna study you and your methods for years and years.”</p>
<p>“You know what I've been thinking?” Foyet asked, not commenting on Hotch’s words. “Haley looks pretty good with dark hair. She's lost some weight. Must be all the stress you caused her. Where's the little man?”</p>
<p>Florence reached for Garcia’s hand to hold, knowing that he was watching them.</p>
<p>“Oh. there he is. Does he like Captain America because of you?” Foyet asked him. “You know, that sweet little bracelet is quite a trophy. He could’ve picked better colors than gray though.”</p>
<p>Florence tilted her head, confused by the comment. When she looked at the video call, she saw that the team had all glanced at her for a moment. She gave Garcia a questioning look, but before she could ask, Foyet’s other phone rang with an incoming call.</p>
<p>“That's your wife. Hold, please,” he said. “Mrs. Hotchner.”</p>
<p>“I'm here,” Haley said.</p>
<p>“Open the gate and I'll drive in,” Foyet told her.</p>
<p>“Ok.”</p>
<p>Once Haley hung up, Foyet went back to Hotch. “Aaron? I really gotta go.”</p>
<p>As soon as he hung up, Garcia lost the trace they had going on him. Because it was a Marshal phone, it was designed to bounce around towers, so they had no way of knowing where he was at.</p>
<p>By following the profile, the team deduced that Foyet was at Hotch’s old house where he used to live when he and Haley were still married. Everyone was on the way, including a tactical team. While they were driving, Foyet made a call.</p>
<p>“Foyet's calling Hotch,” Garcia alerted them.</p>
<p>“Garcia, can you get us on?”</p>
<p>Garcia quickly linked them into the call just as he answered. “Foyet.”</p>
<p>“Aaron? You're ok?” Haley said in a surprised tone.</p>
<p>“I'm fine.”</p>
<p>“But... He said that...” Haley trailed off, realizing what was happening. “Oh, Aaron.”</p>
<p>“He can hear us, right?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“Yes. I am so sorry,” she said in a shaky tone, trying not to cry.</p>
<p>“Haley, show him no weakness,” Hotch instructed. “No fear.”</p>
<p>“I know. Sam told me all about him. Is he, uh—”</p>
<p>“No, Sam is fine,” Hotch lied.</p>
<p>Foyet scoffed. “Aaron, Aaron, Aaron. Is that why your marriage broke up? Because you're a liar?”</p>
<p>“Don't listen to him, Haley,” Hotch told her.</p>
<p>“I have Sam's service phone right here,” Foyet said. “They sent out a mass text about his death. You can take a look if you want.”</p>
<p>“He's trying to scare you.”</p>
<p>“Did you even tell her what this was about? About the deal?” Foyet asked her.</p>
<p>“He's just trying to make you angry.”</p>
<p>“Well, she should be. She's gonna—” Foyet paused to cover Jack’s ears. “D-I-E Because of your inflated ego.”</p>
<p>“Ignore him, Haley.”</p>
<p>“I'm sure you don't want her to know this part either. You know, all he had to do was stop looking for me and you wouldn't be in this mess.”</p>
<p>“Don't react.”</p>
<p>“What is he talking about?” Haley asked Hotch.</p>
<p>“Tell Jack I need him working the case,” Hotch said suddenly.</p>
<p>“What?” Haley asked.</p>
<p>“Tell Jack I need him working the case,” Hotch said quickly.</p>
<p>Haley cleared his throat. “Jack. Did you hear that?”</p>
<p>Then they heard Jack’s little voice over the phone. “Hi, Daddy.”</p>
<p>“Hi, buddy,” Hotch said, his voice cracking.</p>
<p>“Is George a bad guy?”</p>
<p>“Yes, he is,” Hotch said. “Jack, I need you on this case with me. Do you understand? I need you to work the case with me.”</p>
<p>“Ok, Daddy.”</p>
<p>“Jack, hug your mom for me.”</p>
<p>The line was silent for several moments. “Mommy hug me too tight.”</p>
<p>“I'm sorry.”</p>
<p>“Why are you sad?” Jack asked her.</p>
<p>“Oh, I just love you so much.”</p>
<p>“Mommy, I gotta go. I'm working the case.”</p>
<p>“He's so cute,” Foyet said as Jack left the room. “He's like a little junior g-man. I'll be right up, Jackie boy!” Florence started to cry, thinking that the worst would happen. The team was still a long way out.</p>
<p>“Is he gone?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Haley said, sniffing.</p>
<p>“You're so strong, Haley. You're stronger than I ever was.”</p>
<p>“You'll hurry, right?”</p>
<p>“I know you didn't sign on for this,” Hotch told her.</p>
<p>“Neither did you.”</p>
<p>“I'm sorry for everything,” he said.</p>
<p>“Promise me that you will tell him how we met and how you used to make me laugh,” she told him, crying.</p>
<p>“Haley—”</p>
<p>“He needs to know that you weren't always so serious, Aaron. I want him to believe in love because it is the most important thing. But you need to show him. Promise me,” she said firmly.</p>
<p>“I promise,” Hotch whispered.</p>
<p>They listened to Haley’s labored breathing for a few more seconds and then there was a gunshot. Then another and another. Florence flinched, and Garcia pulled her closer and they both cried. Then the phone cut off.</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>“That’s it. I don - don’t know what happened after that,” Florence muttered, trying not to cry all over again. “But I know he would’ve killed Jack and Agent Hotchner had he not been stopped. And I know that this team did the absolute best they could, and no one else could’ve tracked him down so quickly.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Sabin.” Strauss studied her for a moment before looking back down at the file in her hand. Then she turned off the recorder.</p>
<p>“One more thing. This was found on George Foyet’s body.” She tossed Hotch’s gray friendship bracelet on the table. Patches of the thread were stained with blood — she didn’t want to think about whose. She hesitantly reached for it with her good hand.</p>
<p>“I knew that you made it, not Jack, as soon as I saw it. Just like the ones you’ve made for the rest of the team.”</p>
<p>Florence remained quiet, just toying with the bracelet in her hands.</p>
<p>“Were you ever made aware that Foyet took this from Agent Hotchner the day he was attacked in his home?”</p>
<p>Florence cleared her throat and looked up at Strauss. “Uh, no. I was not aware.”</p>
<p>“Then you’re very lucky that he thought Hotchner’s son made it or you very well could’ve ended up like her. It’s fortunate that they guessed correctly.”</p>
<p>Florence frowned when she referred to Haley. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. No, she hadn’t spoken to anyone on the team about it yet, but she didn’t like the way that Strauss was treating the situation.</p>
<p>“It wasn’t a guess. I trust this team with my life, and when it was potentially in their hands, they made the correct call. I have no reason to question their decision.”</p>
<p>“Very well,” Strauss said, sighing as she closed the file. “You’re free to go. You can send in Agent Rossi.”</p>
<p>Florence wasted no time in pushing her chair back and getting up. Anderson was on the other side of the door when she opened it. He gave her a sympathetic smile when he saw her red eyes before letting her in the hall. The rest of the team, minus JJ and Garcia who had gone before her, were lined up in chairs on the wall.</p>
<p>She cleared her throat. “Uh, Ro-Ro, you’re up next.”</p>
<p>He nodded and stood up. “Are you going home? It’s late.”</p>
<p>She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m gonna hang back and wait to see what they decide.” She didn’t want to find out if Hotch got fired over a phone call. She glanced at Hotch, who was sitting away from everyone. “Jack’s playing in the briefing room, right? We can hang out.”</p>
<p>She started to walk away but Hotch softly called her name. He had gotten up from his chair and nodded further down the hall. Once they got to a point where the rest of the team couldn’t hear, he stopped.</p>
<p>“I think you’re in the clear,” Florence muttered, shrugging. “We’re all going to back you up, so there’s nothing to worry about.”</p>
<p>“That’s not—” Hotch sighed and closed his eyes. “I wanted to thank you for all the time you’ve been spending with Jack. He doesn’t really… know what’s going on.”</p>
<p>“I don’t mind. I mean, I’ve been there. Both my parents died when I was five, so I’ll be there for whatever he needs,” she said, looking at her feet. “And I’ve got Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island on my laptop for us to watch while waiting for you guys to finish up.”</p>
<p>“I appreciate that.”</p>
<p>She held out the blood-covered bracelet, which he took and began to rub his fingers over it. “I can make you a new one if you want.”</p>
<p>“I’m quite practiced in the art of getting blood stains out of clothes,” he muttered. Florence’s heart clenched as he slipped it around his wrist for the first time. “This one matters too much.”</p>
<p>“Well, then I’m glad you got it back.”</p>
<p>Hotch sighed and shut his eyes again. “We should’ve told—”</p>
<p>“No,” Florence said, cutting him off. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Strauss when she brought it up. I’m not gonna question why you didn’t tell me. I trust you and I trust this team. Don’t ever doubt that.”</p>
<p>“And what if that trust is ever misplaced one day?”</p>
<p>Florence stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “It won’t be.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. PASTA</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>[5.10]</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>“i’m gonna have to make more cupcakes”</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>There was something so despairingly sad about getting to put on a pretty black dress just to wear it to a funeral. Thankfully, the rain had stopped by the time JJ and Will had picked Florence up to go to the cemetery. She stayed tucked under Garcia’s arm for most of the service, which had been lovely.</p>
<p>Hotch’s speech had been the thing that moved almost each of them to tears. It was moving and beautiful, and Florence had no idea how he got through it without breaking down. At the end of the service, they each placed a white rose on top of the casket, before moving inside.</p>
<p>Florence hadn’t been to a funeral since the death of her parents. They had died in a car crash on the way to pick her up from school, and she didn’t remember much about the actual funeral. The social worker in charge of her had attended with her, and then she had to go back to the orphanage. While she couldn’t remember the details, she was almost positive that they hadn’t served nice food after.</p>
<p>She didn’t complain though as she sat around a table with Morgan, Prentiss, Garcia, Kevin, JJ, and Will. Rossi had gotten up to pull Hotch outside for a break. He had been shaking people’s hands and thanking them for coming for the entire time, and they were sure it was getting tiring.</p>
<p>“What do we do?” Prentiss asked as Rossi and Hotch walked outside.</p>
<p>“There's nothing we can do,” Morgan said. “We just gotta wait him out.”</p>
<p>“You think he'll ever come back?” Reid asked.</p>
<p>“Would you?” JJ asked.</p>
<p>“Hotch is coming back,” Florence said, frowning. She didn’t want to think of the alternative. “H - he has to come back.”</p>
<p>“He'll come back,” Morgan agreed with her. “I just don't know what he's gonna look like when he does.”</p>
<p>“We just need to be there for him when he's ready,” JJ added.</p>
<p>The table was silent for several moments. Florence filled the time looking around the nice dining room they were seated in. “You know, this is a very fancy funeral,” she noted. “Mine won’t be this swanky.”</p>
<p>Garcia gave her a sappy look. “Oh, Ren, you think about what your funeral would be like?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Back in Seattle, my old roommate and I decided on making it a Mamma Mia sing-along double feature. All those present will be required to participate,” she said, leaning her head on her hand.</p>
<p>Prentis covered her mouth and fought off a laugh. “Ren, you <em>cannot</em> make me laugh at a funeral.”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t trying to make you laugh,” she insisted. “We worked in a fifteen intermission where they just play the frog band cover of Live and Let Die from Shrek Three when the Frog King dies in that time.”</p>
<p>Will put his head in JJ’s shoulder, and to those far away, it looked like he was crying, when in fact, he was laughing as quietly as he could. JJ smiled softly and tried to shush him.</p>
<p>“You sure know how to brighten everyone’s day, Sunshine,” Morgan told her, slinging his arm over the back of his chair.</p>
<p>Florence sat back, not knowing how to convince them that she was being completely honest. She and Jess had even written it all down. For Jess’ funeral, they would play a game of Kahoot! to see who knew her the best — the pair came up with the idea after a heated game in their history class senior year. Even though they weren’t the closest friends anymore, they promised the other that whichever died first would make sure the plans were followed through. Given that Florence’s line of work was a touch more dangerous than Jess’s job as a museum tour guide, hers would <em>probably</em> come first.</p>
<p>Once Will calmed down, they discussed the logistics of Florence’s funeral a little more, which kept the mood lighthearted, something they all had needed. Then came the dreaded ringing of Morgan’s cell phone.</p>
<p>“They can't be calling us in, not tonight,” he said, scoffing.</p>
<p>“I'm on it,” JJ murmured, beginning to make a call.</p>
<p>“We can't go,” Prentiss said, shaking her head.</p>
<p>“We have to,” Morgan said, throwing his napkin down and standing up. “I'll get Rossi.”</p>
<p>Florence jumped up to follow him. “I wanna say goodbye to Hotch.”</p>
<p>Morgan led her outside, where Hotch and Rossi were talking on the patio. When they saw Morgan walk up, the looks on their faces said they knew what it was about.</p>
<p>“Guys. I'm sorry, but we just got called in,” he told them. “We have to go.”</p>
<p>“Call me if you need anything,” Hotch said, shaking his hand.</p>
<p>“Take care of your son,” he told him before rejoining the rest of the team, who were getting up to leave.</p>
<p>“You gonna be ok?” Rossi asked him.</p>
<p>“I'll see you when you get back,” Hotch said, not answering the question.</p>
<p>Once Rossi left, Florence quickly gave Hotch a hug, which he was glad to return. “No matter what you decide to do, it’ll be the right choice. Also, I’m incredibly jealous that you don’t have to wear one of those ugly monster splints for your broken nose.”</p>
<p>
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</p>
<p>Once Florence and Garcia got to their office, Florence immediately found her go-bag. She pulled one of the pairs of sweatpants out and slipped them on under her funeral dress. If she was going to be working late at night on a weekend, then she would be comfy and warm.</p>
<p>“Two women dead in two weeks, both killed in their own homes, and no sign of forced entry,” JJ read off the file once they were on the plane and had video-called Garcia and Florence. “Floors were covered in rose petals.”</p>
<p>“Quite the romantic,” Rossi muttered. “Evidence of sexual assault?”</p>
<p>“None,” she answered. “Both women were last seen leaving their offices on a Friday And never showed up to work on a Monday.”</p>
<p>“It's Thursday. Why are we only being called in now?” Morgan asked, frowning.</p>
<p>“The second body was only found yesterday.”</p>
<p>“There may be a socio-economic pattern emerging. The first victim, Bethany Heminger, Lived in Belle Meade, Melissa Johnson in Brentwood. Both are affluent neighborhoods,” Reid said.</p>
<p>“Yet there was nothing missing from either home,” Rossi said.</p>
<p>“What did these women do for a living?” Morgan asked.</p>
<p>“Bethany was a defense attorney, Melissa a corporate executive,” JJ replied.</p>
<p>“Two brunettes with similar features in high-powered professions? That's not a coincidence,” Prentiss stated.</p>
<p>“These women most likely represent someone he knows,” Rossi said.</p>
<p>“All right, so we need to figure out where this unsub is meeting his victims and how he's gaining access to their homes, and if he's staying on pattern. Most likely this guy has picked out his next target,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>“We should check gardeners, housekeeping staff, pool attendants, floral shops,” Rossi listed. “See if anyone worked both homes.”</p>
<p>“Start working up a paper trail, Garcia, Ren. Find out where these women were in the days leading up to each murder,” Morgan ordered.</p>
<p>“Gotcha,” Florence said, spinning to face her keyboard.</p>
<p>“Like a genie in a bottle — poof!” Garcia said before leaving the call.</p>
<p>The pair did just as they were instructed, doing the thorough background checks. Because of the victims’ social statuses, there was a lengthy list of workers that had access to their homes and with their own keys. However, there was no crossover between the employees, and they each had solid alibis for the timelines of the murders. Despite this, the two women were incredibly similar. It’d wouldn’t have been unusual if they’d have been friends.</p>
<p>When the team got back from viewing the crime scenes and bodies, they returned to the precinct to see what they had found.</p>
<p>“Find anything?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>“Several people had access to each home. Housekeeper, gardener, pool cleaner, dog walker,” JJ listed. “Each with their own key and an alibi to match.”</p>
<p>“Any crossover?”</p>
<p>“None. We even vetted delivery people and utility workers,” she replied.</p>
<p>“Garcia, do you and Ren have anything?” Reid asked, taking a seat.</p>
<p>“There's no hits on the prints at all, but I did what Sir Derek there asked and I created a paper trail. There's no crossover between the two victims themselves in the weeks leading up to their murders, but they did run in similar circles,” she told them.</p>
<p>“How do you mean?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>“Country clubs, but different ones. Fancy restaurants, private concerts, five-star hotels,” Florence listed off. “Like Fergie, they were living the glamorous life. A very high-class and expensive lifestyle.”</p>
<p>“A lifestyle he'd fit right into,” Prentiss said as she and Morgan entered the room. “This guy is educated, intelligent, proper. He's a downright gentleman.”</p>
<p>“The rose petals sent a pretty specific message. He's romancing them whether they want it or not,” Morgan told them. “He's got the social skills to back it up.”</p>
<p>“Hey, Garcia, take a look at dating services and social networking sites,” Reid asked. “Look for working professionals and privileged elites.”</p>
<p>“Check, check, and checkers. Back in a smidge.”</p>
<p>Unfortunately, before they found any solid leads, another body turned up, well, two bodies. The unsub had stuck again, this time killing a woman named Erika Silverman and her boyfriend. He must have shown up and the unsub had no choice but to kill them both and move on to someone else. Once they had names, Garcia and Florence could look into the new victims, but it wasn’t very helpful. Erika had used her credit card very little in the past week, making it impossible to know where she had been to help the geographical profile.</p>
<p>But Reid did think to look at the GPS systems in each of their cars. Once the data was sent to them, they could begin to sort through it. By linking up all the places that the victims had been, Garcia and Florence managed to find something that stood out.</p>
<p>“Garcia's got something,” JJ said as she received the files they sent.</p>
<p>“I'm a girl genius cause this is what I did,” she said, which made Florence grin. “I took the travel logs from the GPS systems, overlaid their routes against the geographical profile to reveal what the paper trail could not.”</p>
<p>“Which was?” JJ asked.</p>
<p>“While Erika Silverman is the only victim who didn't visit a private club, a concert, or go to a fancy restaurant in the days leading up to her death, she did spend a couple of hours at Cheekwood Botanical Gardens on Tuesday,” she explained.</p>
<p>“Garcia, did either of the other victims go to the park?” Reid asked.</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“I don't know if it's relevant, then,” he said, frowning.</p>
<p>“It is when her navigation system reads in a straight line. To work, back home, to work, back home. I don't think she ever left her house. She even had her groceries delivered.”</p>
<p>“What was she doing on Tuesday?” Reid asked, turning to JJ.</p>
<p>“Let's find out,” she responded.</p>
<p>While JJ and Reid went to the Botanical Gardens to chase that lead, Rossi and Morgan found another potential one. They called Garcia and Florence to immediately have them check it.</p>
<p>“Ren here,” she said, answering the phone while Garcia kept going through data.</p>
<p>“Florence, check employee records at each of the venues the victims visited in the week prior to their death. Look for men spending beyond their means,” Rossi told her and she got to searching.</p>
<p>“A guy who's racked up a lot of debt, Garcia. Look at cars, wardrobes, something that does not fit their current income level. A scholarship-funded private school education maybe,” Morgan added.</p>
<p>With new search parameters, it didn’t take long at all to find the connection. It was a valet company, and one of its employees was the unsub.</p>
<p>“Culpepper Valet Company handled the fund-raiser on Tuesday, and the same company had contracts with the hotel lounge that Bethany Heminger frequented, and the country club Melissa Johnson was a member at,” Garcia told the team.</p>
<p>“That's our connection,” Reid said.</p>
<p>“JJ, get Rossi and Prentiss to pick up the owner,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>“Right away.” JJ left to call Prentiss and Rossi.</p>
<p>“All right, Baby Girl, talk to me,” Morgan said, taking JJ’s previous seat. “I need employee records and a list of venues that Culpepper contracted out to this weekend.”</p>
<p>“Do you think she’s some kind of amateur, Der-Bear? She put it in your inbox sixty seconds ago,” Florence said, spinning in her chair.</p>
<p>Morgan grinned. “Thanks, Penelope and Florence.”</p>
<p>WIth the employee list and talking to the owner, it wasn’t long before they figured out which employee of the valet company was the unsub. His name was Joe Belser, and he had just broken up with his fiance who cheated on him with the best man. The team headed to his apartment, hoping he was there instead of with another victim.</p>
<p>“Garcia, did you guys find anything else on Belser?” JJ asked over the phone.</p>
<p>“Ok, he attended Southern Charleston Preparatory Academy on scholarship. His parents died in a boating accident six years ago. Belser lost his inheritance in the stock market, and since then, he has been racking up debt faster than he can pay it off. He was engaged to Society Magazine editor Rose Smith until six weeks ago. When it was called off, and the chapel was already paid for,” Garcia told them.</p>
<p>“So he spent his entire savings trying to live in the world of his fiancee,” Morgan said. “She was his lifeline to the society he'd grown up in.”</p>
<p>“Only to have her leave him and wind up penniless,” Detective Kaminski added.</p>
<p>“Hey, Garcia, I don't suppose Belser's car has a lo-jack system on it, does it?” Reid asked.</p>
<p>“No. No such luck, boy wonder,” she said, frowning. “I need potential victims' names.”</p>
<p>“We'll get back to you.”</p>
<p>And get back to them, they did. After Belsar’s apartment came up empty, they went to the club where he was working that night. He wasn’t there, but they asked around potential victims. Reid called back with a list of six different women, and after running them with the geographical profile and victimology, they narrowed it down to Ann Herron.</p>
<p>They rushed to her house and they managed to get there in time. They saved Ann and apprehended Belser. Despite its earlier challenges, they had solved the case and got to head home.</p>
<p>
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</p>
<p>“This is a very funny tan line,” Reggie said, grinning. He was holding up Florence’s arm, which was no longer in a cast. The skin that had been under it was a completely different shade than the rest of her and would take some time to even out. She was at her apartment with her friends to celebrate her freed limb. “Also, I can’t believe you had <em>two</em> of my guitar picks stuck in there.”</p>
<p>“I’m just glad I have my drum stick back,” Alex stated, twirling said stick between his fingers.</p>
<p>Julie made a disgusted face. “You did wash that thing, right? It was her itch stick for like a month and a half. You saw the pics of the inside of that cast she sent. It was disgusting.”</p>
<p>Alex scoffed. “Of course, I cleaned it.”</p>
<p>Florence laughed before her phone rang. “Hewwo?”</p>
<p>Rossi sighed over the line. “Do not ever answer the phone with hewwo <em>ever</em> again. I hate that as much as the time you barked at me.”</p>
<p>“Bark, bark,” she replied, laughing and ignoring the funny look Reggie gave her. Rossi grumbled and was likely rolling his eyes. “Do we have a case or something I need to come in for?”</p>
<p>“No, not yet. I just thought I’d let you know that Hotch is officially coming back to the BAU. He turned down the retirement offer that the Bureau offered him.”</p>
<p>“Really?” Florence asked, sitting up straighter and grinning. Reggie pouted a little when he lost his grip on her hand, but she was far too excited. “I knew it. I’m gonna have to make more cupcakes.”</p>
<p>“Just don’t eat half of them before they even make it to the building this time,” he joked.</p>
<p>“I’ll try — Luke! Stop trying to stir the pot with my itching stick!” Florence shouted all of the sudden.</p>
<p>Rossi heard a lot of commotion in the background and frowned. “W - what are you doing?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m teaching Reggie and the band how to make good homemade pasta,” she said.</p>
<p>“First off, the four of your friends seem like they share two collective brain cells, so I can only imagine how well this must be going,” Rossi muttered. “And you can’t teach others how to make good homemade pasta when what you make when I’m not there to help is still barely passable as pasta.”</p>
<p>“Damn, Ro-Ro,” she muttered. Though, he wasn’t that wrong. “Some confidence would be nice. We haven’t set anything on fire yet.”</p>
<p>“What was the consistency of the dough when you put it in the water?”</p>
<p>Florence chewed on her lip. “I mean, the noodles were really sticky.”</p>
<p>“Sticky! Why didn’t you add more flour?”</p>
<p>“It just felt like a lot of work and we’re really hungry.”</p>
<p>Rossi scoffed. “I’m coming over. I am not letting you feed them sticky spaghetti that was stirred with the drumstick you’ve had shoved in your sweaty cast for eight weeks.”</p>
<p>Once Rossi turned up, Florence turned to her friends with a big grin on her face. “Rossi is coming and he’s gonna make us good pasta.”</p>
<p>“That’s probably for the best,” Luke muttered. He was holding up the drumstick, which had the pasta stuck on the end over the pot. The noodles had all fused together when cooking.</p>
<p>“We should probably just… throw that batch out,” Julie muttered, sighing heavily.</p>
<p>Reggie shrugged. “I mean, I’ll take a bite out of it.”</p>
<p>Florence jumped on his back to stop him from going over to Luke. Luke, however, thought it sounded like a good idea and walked over with the glob of noodles. “No!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ty so much for all the super nice comments i've been getting recently ♡</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. VOLCANO</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>[5.12]</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>“i already snagged a boyfriend. no need to put in effort now”</strong>
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</p><p>When Hotch walked into the bullpen two days before he was officially scheduled to return from his leave, everyone looked at him in surprise.</p><p>“I thought you weren’t coming back until the beginning of next week,” Rossi said, walking up to Hotch. Prentiss also got up from her desk and joined his side. Both glanced warily at his office, which had the blinds closed.</p><p>“Way to make me feel welcome, Dave,” Hotch said, rolling his eyes. “Jack went back to his Preschool and I didn’t feel like sitting at home alone all day. Thought I’d come in and get a head start on some paperwork.”</p><p>As Hotch started to walk to his office, they followed quickly behind. Morgan grinned mischievously but stayed put at his desk. JJ too watched from the sidelines, smiling at what he would find.</p><p>“Before you go in your office,” Prentiss said, clearing her throat. “We all agreed that it would be best to not treat you differently given the circumstances.”</p><p>“And I would appreciate that,” Hotch said, frowning. “What?”</p><p>Prentiss sighed. “Well, Florence may have taken that as “annoy Hotch more”.”</p><p>Rossi snickered into his hand. “In her defense though, most of this was going to be cleaned up by the time you returned. But you got here early, so you can’t be that angry.”</p><p>“And, she and Reid are technically on their lunch break, so they aren’t wasting company time,” Prentiss added.</p><p>Hotch had no idea what he expected, but what he saw wasn’t it. His office was in disarray. He had never seen something so chaotic. There were countless different coloring pages taped to his walls of different cartoon characters. Friendship bracelet making materials were in a tangled pile in the corner. Empty Capri Sun pouches overflowed the garbage can. There was a paper sign hanging crookedly from the ceiling that read “Welc Hocotch!”</p><p>But what really drew his eye was the fact that Florence and Reid were sitting on the office floor. In between them was a medium sized paper mache volcano, which they had painted to look like a real one. It was sitting on top of a deep metal pan, and when Hotch saw the containers of dish soap, baking soda, and vinegar, he knew exactly what they were doing, unfortunately.</p><p>“Thanks for helping me, Reid,” Florence said, adding the baking soda. They had no idea that the others had entered. “I always saw these on tv shows but never got to make one myself.”</p><p>“I don’t mind. This has been very enjoyable. Did you know that the largest volcano in the solar system isn’t even on Earth? Olympus Mons, which is on Mars, is a giant shield volcano that rises to an elevation of twenty-seven kilometers, and it measures five hundred and fifty kilometers across. It was likely able to grow so large because there are no tectonic plates on Mars.”</p><p>“That’s really cool. Hope it doesn’t erupt and wipe out the Martians like that town in the Bastille song,” Florence said, adding some red food coloring to the volcano.</p><p>“Ah, Pompeii,” he informed her.</p><p>“Is this not something you two should be doing outside and <em>not</em> in my office?”</p><p>Florence jumped up when she heard Hotch’s voice. “Hopscotch, you’re back!”</p><p>Reid too had been surprised. He had been holding the bottle of vinegar, and accidentally poured it in the volcano, which immediately started the chemical reaction. Thankfully he hadn’t added a lot, so the explosion was rather small. By the time Florence had turned around, realizing what was happening, the orange foam had settled down in the bottom of the pan and the experiment was over.</p><p>“Oh, I missed it,” Florence groaned, hanging her head.</p><p>“Sorry,” Reid said, frowning. “We can clean the inside out and start over.”</p><p>“What have you done to my office?” Hotch asked, looking around it again. If his ex-wife hadn't just died, he might’ve smiled at the sight. Maybe that had been her goal — to make him smile.</p><p>“I was gonna clean most of it up,” Florence said, smiling sheepishly. “I’ve been having my “me time” in here while you’ve been gone. Oh, also, can you get my shoe down? Derek put it up there to annoy me and you’re the only other one tall enough to reach it.”</p><p>She pointed at the top of one of his filing cabinets, where a yellow Croc was sitting on it. The image of Florence hobbling around without one of her shoes immediately entered Hotch’s mind. Logically, she probably just took the other one off though.</p><p>“No, leave it there,” Rossi said, crossing his arms. “That way she can’t wear it. You were doing so good about wearing the boots I got you.”</p><p>Hotch rolled his eyes but did walk over to the filing cabinet and grab the shoes. He tossed it to Florence, who grinned happily. Then she ran off to wave it in Morgan’s face.</p><p>“She’d burn this building to the ground if I went away for too long,” Hotch said, rubbing his forehead.</p><p>Prentiss chuckled. “She’d probably burn it down on purpose as a way to lure you back into her life.”</p><p>
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</p><p>“Did you guys know that there’s a direct linkage between the Nine Eleven attack and Fifty Shades of Grey?”</p><p>“Florence, I’m begging of you to please stop,” Morgan said, laying his head on the table. They had been called in very early on a Saturday morning for a case, and it had ruined Morgan’s plans. They were waiting for Rossi, Hotch, and Prentiss to arrive, so Florence thought she’d fill the silence since she had already looked up the two victims, while Garcia stayed in their office to get a head start on background checks.</p><p>“Actually, I’m a little curious,” Reid said, smirking. Sure, he welcomed new knowledge, but mostly it was to annoy Morgan.</p><p>Before Florence could go into detail though, Rossi, Hotch, and Prentiss entered the room. Morgan sighed in relief, but it was too soon.</p><p>“Nine Eleven to My Chemical Romance. MCR to Twilight. Twilight to Fifty Shades,” she said very quickly. She received strange looks from the three that had just arrived, but she felt accomplished.</p><p>JJ tried to hide her smile as she started to present the case. “Rita Stuart, twenty-five. Second victim in Atlantic City.”</p><p>“Pretty public spot for a dump site,” Rossi noted.</p><p>“You know, technically, I think it would qualify more as a disposal site,” Reid corrected. “You don't leave a body on a merry-go-round out of convenience.”</p><p>“He took some time with her appearance, didn't he?” Prentiss said.</p><p>“Yeah. Her nails were polished, her hair was cut, clothes were brand-new,” JJ said.</p><p>“Wants her to look her best when found,” Morgan stated. “That's a lot of remorse.”</p><p>“Who is victim number one?” Hotch asked.</p><p>“Stacia Jackson, twenty-nine,” JJ said, putting up her picture. “She was found at a local playground.”</p><p>“A change in victimology,” Rossi said, noticing a change in the women’s races. It was a very rare thing in their line of work.</p><p>“What's the connection between these women?” Hotch asked.</p><p>“None,” Florence said, frowning. She showed them her laptop with the information she had found. “Rita was married. Stacia was single. Rita worked at a diner. Stacia was a corporate lawyer. Credit cards show that they never came within ten miles of each other.”</p><p>“Both women were taken two months ago?” Hotch asked.</p><p>“Yeah. They lived such completely different lives that the police didn't tie their abduction together until now,” JJ answered.</p><p>“Was there any evidence of sexual assault?” Reid asked.</p><p>“There was no evidence of violence of any kind,” she told them.</p><p>“So how did they die?” Prentiss asked.</p><p>“Rita had a stroke. Stacia had a brain hemorrhage.”</p><p>“Look at this, the unsub gave them a battery of drugs,” Reid said, looking through the file. “Atracurium, doxacurium. These are neural inhibitors. They block signals from the brain to the muscles.”</p><p>“He put them in medical comas for two months,” JJ said.</p><p>“Actually, they weren't in a coma. You'd need phenobarbital to keep them unconscious, and they didn't have that,” Reid corrected.</p><p>“So, wait a minute. These victims were paralyzed but they were still conscious?” Morgan asked.</p><p>“They could open their eyes, hear, probably even feel stimulation,” Reid told them.</p><p>“Physical immobility but mental awareness,” Rossi said. “This unsub wants total domination over them.”</p><p>“And he turns their bodies into prisons to do it,” Hotch stated.</p><p>
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</p><p>Once the team was in the air and Florence had obsessed over Garcia’s new red hair, they video-called in to get further instructions after they looked into the victims more. The call connected as Reid was talking.</p><p>“You see this in the angel of mercy killers, like Genene Jones and Amy Archer,” he said. “They didn't care about race or hair color. It's men that do.”</p><p>“Damn straight, men do,” Garcia said, leaning towards the camera and grinning.</p><p>Morgan grinned when he saw her. “Well, hello, red. Look at you. Guys.” He moved the laptop so that everyone could see her.</p><p>“Wow,” JJ and Prentiss said.</p><p>“Well, I’ve never gotten such a reaction for my hair,” Florence said, pretending to be jealous as she flipped her pink locks.</p><p>“Garcia, Florence, what did you find out about the clothing the unsub's dressing the victims in?” Hotch asked them.</p><p>“At first, only that both garments were made from chiffon, but with the wonder twin powers of the Atlantic City Police and my impeccable eye for fashion — something Ren lacks by the way — we have also determined that these garments fit ridiculously well. They're super flattering to each victim's exact measurements, kind of exactly like the unsub whipped them up herself,” Garcia explained.</p><p>“Maybe that's what connects the victims,” Prentiss said.</p><p>“How so?” Hotch asked her.</p><p>“Maybe she isn't just killing petite women because they're easier to abduct and pose but because of a physical type. She wants a body type.”</p><p>“Sewing clothes for a specific size of woman,” Morgan realized.</p><p>“Please tell me she is not killing these women because she needs human models,” JJ said, shaking her head. “I mean, there's gotta be more to it than that.”</p><p>“There probably is, but at least we have a start on the victimology,” Rossi said.</p><p>“Prentiss and Morgan, I want you to interview the victims' families,” Hotch ordered. “Talk to them about lifestyle choices. Any body image issues these women may have had. Reid, go to Rita Stuart's autopsy. See if the drugs point to any specific medical training the unsub might have had. Dave and I will go to the disposal site. And, Garcia and Florence.”</p><p>“Sir.”</p><p>“I want you to check missing persons reports for the last two months. See if any abductions match what we know. We need to find out If the unsub's already taken another victim,” he said.</p><p>“On it,” Florence said, shooting finger guns at the camera. When they hung up, Florence turned to Garcia and pouted. “I don’t have a bad sense of fashion.”</p><p>“You wear sweatpants every single day.”</p><p>“Uh, that’s cause it’s comfy and I’m not trying to impress you people. I already snagged a boyfriend. No need to put in effort now.”</p><p>Florence and Garcia quickly got back to work, digging through all the missing persons reports like Hotch had ordered. Later, they also got a call requesting they pull all vehicles with handicap registration, which was very easy to get. Once they had that, they finished up the missing reports and called JJ to fill them in.</p><p>“Go ahead, Garcia,” Hotch said.</p><p>“Hello, my pretties. We have finished our missing persons sweep. I've got nothing on the medical vehicle, but two new matches on the clothes make the woman front. Cindy Edmundson. She was abducted outside a thrift store, and Maxine Wynan was last seen at the Hillridge Mall.”</p><p>“That sounds like our girl,” Morgan said.</p><p>“Any surveillance footage at the mall?” Rossi asked.</p><p>“Hope,” Florence said, frowning. “It was an outside parking lot. Sorry.”</p><p>“The new abductees? What's their physical type?” Hotch asked.</p><p>“They look pretty tiny to me. I'm gonna send you pictures,” Garcia replied. “Also, if it pleases the court, I would like to direct your attention to exhibit A. The calendar map.”</p><p>“What about it?” JJ asked.</p><p>“Both of these new victims were abducted one week ago, exactly one day before the bodies of Rita Stuart and Stacia Jackson, respectively, turned up,” Garcia explained.</p><p>“She doesn't let a body go until she has a replacement,” Hotch realized.</p><p>By the time the next morning arrived, there was another body found and another girl had been taken. Byt combing through missing person reports from the last two days, they deduced that it was Bethany Wallace who had been taken, and she fit the victimology. When her husband showed up at the precinct for questioning, he revealed that she was diabetic, and if not found within twenty-four hours so that she could take her insulin, she’d die.</p><p>The team spread out to try and put together the pieces of the case. JJ managed to learn from a local dressmaker that the unsub handmade the dresses that the victims were in. Also, the unsub had been sewing for a long time. Morgan and Reid then went to talk to a doll collector, who managed to pinpoint the exact doll line the unsub was trying to recreate from her childhood.</p><p>It was some local doll company from the eighties. They had held a contest for a new doll idea, which ended up uncovering a lot of sexual assaults for the girls that entered. After combing through essay entries, looking through the clothing entries, and looking at seamstresses in the area, they narrowed the unsub down to Samantha Malcolm. They immediately worked on a background check for her.</p><p>“Ok, guys, I just got Samantha Malcolm's medical records, and,” Garcia stopped to sigh heavily. “Oh, my god, she was doomed.”</p><p>“Like Star Trek red shirt doomed. The first couple to have sex in a horror movie doomed. Buffy’s mom doomed—”</p><p>“Ren, focus up,” Morgan said.</p><p>“Sorry,” Florence muttered.</p><p>“Florence, Garcia, what happened to her?” Hotch asked.</p><p>“Well, for the first ten years, nothing,” Garcia said. “And then she started a battery of electroshock treatments.”</p><p>“At ten?” Reid asked in disbelief. “Who subjects a child to ECT?”</p><p>“That would be dear old dad,” Florence told them. “Dr. Arthur Malcolm. He runs an inpatient mental health facility for troubled young people called New Lives.”</p><p>“At first, the essay that Samantha wrote raised some flags, but her father explained that the therapy was to deal with the recent death of her mother. After that, he started her on a serious regimen of antipsychotic drugs, which he weaned her off of a few years ago,” Garcia explained.</p><p>“It explains her familiarity with medication,” JJ said.</p><p>“Where is she now?” Prentiss asked.</p><p>“Uh, her father declared her incompetent, so he's still the legal guardian,” Garcia replied. “Everything is in his name. And all of her records list New Lives as her residence.”</p><p>“She couldn't keep victims in an inpatient facility. She needs privacy,” Rossi said.</p><p>“Garcia, what about real estate holdings in her father's name?” Hotch asked.</p><p>“Just his own, but New Lives has a bunch of outpatient and halfway houses all over town,” hse said.</p><p>“JJ, where does she work?” Hotch asked.</p><p>“I have her placed at three different shops around town,” JJ answered.</p><p>“All right, let's split up and cover the shops and the facility.”</p><p>“I want to go to New Lives,” Reid insisted. “Whether or not she's there, I want to talk to the father. There are literally hundreds of therapies to help kids through loss. Electroshock is not one of them.”</p><p>“Take Rossi.”</p><p>Once the team split up, they managed to track down Samantha. Her father, after being threatened, of course, gave up the address she was at. There, they found Samantha as well as the three missing girls. Samantha was apprehended and the girls made it out alive.</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>After the case was wrapped up, Reid had invited Florence to come with him to some chess park he liked to go with. She had nothing better to do, so didn’t mind tagging along. Apparently, he had recently lost his joy for the game and was trying to get it back. Teaching Florence how to play might help him a little.</p><p>When they arrived at the park, he walked over to a younger guy who seemed to be playing against himself. Florence kept any nerd comments to herself though, because even if she thought it was a little sad, she wasn’t mean.</p><p>“Checkmate in twelve,” Reid told the boy after studying his board.</p><p>“No way,” he said, scoffing.</p><p>“Let me show you,” Reid said, smiling.</p><p>He took a seat across from the guy and they began playing. Each only took seconds to make a move before hitting the little clock on the table — Florence didn’t really know what it was for. As they quickly played, people started to gather around them and watch. Florence looked around and saw their amazed faces.</p><p>The game soon ended in exactly twelve moves just like Reid had predicted. The crowd started to clap and congratulate him, which confused Florence even more. She leaned down next to him.</p><p>"Teach me how to do that, Boy Genius. I wanna be cool with the chess crowd."</p><p>"Ren, I've been perfecting my skills at this game since I was a child. It has taken years."</p><p>She made a face. "Oh. Nevermind, that sounds like a lot of work."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. FAMILY</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TRIGGER WARNING: TALKS OF SUICIDE/SUICIDAL FEELINGS. Please don’t read if it will make you uncomfortable.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>[5.13]</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>“i just needed someone to care about me, but no one did”</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>Florence and Garcia were a bit caught off guard when they were asked to accompany the team on a case. Really, they weren’t even sure if it was a true case — they were investigating four teen suicides to see if foul play was involved. So, the two technical analysts had grabbed their rarely used go-bags and gotten on the fancy plane for Florence’s third trip.</p>
<p>“Sir, it's not that I'm not glad to be coming with you, because I am. I just don't understand the why,” Garcia told Hotch.</p>
<p>“Same,” Florence muttered. She frowned down at the Capri Sun she was trying to open, but she kept missing the hole with her straw.</p>
<p>“One of the aspects of an equivocal death investigation, when suicide is a probability, is an indirect personality assessment,” Hotch told them. “Our victims are all internet generation kids. There should be invaluable personal data on their computers to mine for the evaluation.”</p>
<p>“If they committed suicide, evidence of it will probably in their cyber world,” Morgan added.</p>
<p>“So I'm gonna snoop through dead kids' computers?” Garcia asked.</p>
<p>“This plane seldom makes pleasure trips,” Rossi told them.</p>
<p>“Besides, Ren likes to do the snooping part,” Prentiss said. “Digging up personal information and being nosy is her favorite part of the job, right?”</p>
<p>“Uh, yeah,” Florence said, a little unenthusiastically. Prentiss frowned at her lack of enthusiasm. “Sorry, just sleepy, and being on this fancy plane couch makes me want to take a nap. I was up late last night talking with my old roommate from Seattle. She’s planning a trip to New York in a week and a half and wants me to come to try and reconnect or something.”</p>
<p>“Well, hold off on sleeping,” Morgan said, putting an arm around her. “We got a case to solve. But you should definitely go. You deserve a vacation.”</p>
<p>“We've all been over the files. Let's talk about victimology,” Hotch said.</p>
<p>“Ok. All four kids were decent students, from different neighboring towns, but the same school and the same county,” Rossi said.</p>
<p>“Active in sports and community,” Morgan added.</p>
<p>“Intact families, no mental disorders, no precipitating events,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“These are just average good kids,” Morgan stated. “There has to be some underlying issue.”</p>
<p>“Besides relative proximity, there's no obvious connection between any of them,” Reid said.</p>
<p>“It seems to rule out an overt suicide pact,” Hotch guessed.</p>
<p>“The first few days leading up to a teenager's suicide are usually very telling,” Reid told them. “Their behavior is transparent. There's a multitude of indicators.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but the most common don't exist here,” JJ spoke up. “There's no prior attempts, no period of deep depression, no withdrawal from family members, no spontaneous proclamations of love.”</p>
<p>“Spontaneous proclamations of love?” Prentiss asked, confused.</p>
<p>“Sometimes they’ll just start telling everyone in their life how much they love and appreciate them,” Florence mumbled, leaning her head against the window.</p>
<p>JJ nodded her head. “Yes. It’s sort of like a… goodbye.”</p>
<p>Hotch looked between JJ and Florence, both who clearly weren’t their usual selves, but he made no comment. “We'll start with the latest two victims. If they were suicides, let's find out what drove them to it.”</p>
<p>When the jet landed, they headed to the police station. The local sheriff was waiting for them when they pulled into the parking lot.</p>
<p>“Hello. Rhonda Samuels,” she greeted.</p>
<p>“Hi. Agent Jareau,” JJ said, shaking her hand. “We spoke on the phone.”</p>
<p>“Thanks for coming out,” Samuels said. “My county's getting pretty shook up. I got this reporter that won't stop calling. I'm holding him off, but he's connecting the dots on the number of suicides. Should I call him back?”</p>
<p>“No, not just yet,” JJ told her. “We need to be very careful about when we release this information.”</p>
<p>“Sensationalizing these deaths may cause a domino effect with other kids,” Morgan added.</p>
<p>“The term is suicide contagion. The spread of suicidal thoughts among a group of people that sometimes results in copycat acts. It's especially prevalent in teen cases, and studies suggest that media coverage is sometimes associated with more deaths,” Reid informed her.</p>
<p>“Is there a good place for Florence and me to set up?” Garcia asked.</p>
<p>“Don't have much of a command center,” Samuels said, frowning.</p>
<p>“Oh, fret not. I got my own command center,” Garcia said, smiling. “We just need your juice.”</p>
<p>“You got it.”</p>
<p>After Garcia and Florence had their monitors set up, they didn’t have to wait too long for the laptops to arrive. The team had split up between each of the victims' houses and gotten their computers while also looking through their rooms.</p>
<p>“Hey, you ready to delve into Trish Leake's online world?” Prentiss asked while handing them her laptop.</p>
<p>“If by ready you mean extremely capable and even more reluctant,” Garcia muttered, taking the device.</p>
<p>“Yeah, something like that.”</p>
<p>Garcia opened up the laptop and plugged it into her own system. However, when they tried to go through it, they came up blank, which was definitely odd.</p>
<p>“Well, that's weird,” Garcia said, gaining the others’ attention.</p>
<p>“What?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“There's nothing here.”</p>
<p>“Nothing useful?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>“Nothing at all,” Florence said, frowning.</p>
<p>‘Look, there's no root directory. There's no operating system. The registry appears to be blank,” Garcia explained.</p>
<p>“But why would she have an empty computer set up?” Prentiss asked, confused.</p>
<p>“She didn’t say empty. She said it appears to be blank,” Florence said as Garcia slid the laptop to her.</p>
<p>“Meaning?” Hotch asked, eying Florence as she zoned out and started typing.</p>
<p>“Ren can do it faster than me, but we’re still gonna need awhile.”</p>
<p>Though it ended up not taking a while. After a few minutes, Florence found her way in. “I got it,” she called, getting everyone back. “She just hid the directories instead of erasing them.”</p>
<p>Instead of doing the digging herself, she slid the laptop back to Garcia. That was a bit odd, as she usually loved digging through people’s personal files, but they chalked it up to her being tired — she never did nap on the plane after all.</p>
<p>“Oh, god,” Garcia whispered once she opened up the browser.</p>
<p>“What is it?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“She was on a choking game site the night she died,” Garcia told them.</p>
<p>“A what?” Rossi asked.</p>
<p>“Uh, it's a game kids play where they choke themselves to get a buzz, to get high,” Garcia tried to explain.</p>
<p>“They call it the good kids' high,” Reid said, rushing into the room. “You get lightheaded and a sense of euphoria even though no actual drugs are involved. It's something kids in high school play.”</p>
<p>“Did Ryan have a computer?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“Not in his room,” Morgan said.</p>
<p>“What about a gaming system?” Garcia asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah, he did,” Reid said.</p>
<p>“He can get online with that,” Florence mumbled.</p>
<p>“I have the, uh, IP address,” Reid said, pulling out a piece of paper with it written down on.</p>
<p>“Oh. That will help,” Garcia said, typing it in. “Bingo. Ryan was on the same site on the same night.”</p>
<p>“It wasn't suicide,” Morgan stated.</p>
<p>“Hang on, this is a text to voice icon,” Garcia told them. “Let's see what happens.”</p>
<p>She clicked on it and a robotic voice sounded. “Come on, try it. We all do it. I dare you.”</p>
<p>“I dare you?” Samuels repeated.</p>
<p>“Someone was orchestrating this,” Prentiss said, shaking her head. “Purposely getting the kids to choke themselves.”</p>
<p>The robotic voice continued. “Make sure you close the door. Tomorrow's the big night. We're all gonna play the game.”</p>
<p>“There's a whole subculture around this game,” Garcia told them. “They make up names for it. They do it at parties.”</p>
<p>“But someone is daring these kids in this area to play the game,” Rossi said.</p>
<p>“It's a contest,” Garcia realized, looking over the website. “And there are rules. Come on, Evans High, this is the big one. Garfield edged out Casper High last week. You gonna let them diss us?”</p>
<p>“Diss — sounds like a kid,” Prentiss noted.</p>
<p>“Who else would pit schools against each other?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“Reckless teenage competition,” Morgan muttered.</p>
<p>“The school that logs the most high time this Friday wins,” Garcia told them.</p>
<p>“Friday. Tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Get your friends on board. Practice makes the high last longer. Gotta do it alone and video it with your webcam and upload it to the site for it to count,” Garcia continued to read from the site.</p>
<p>“Doing it alone requires ligatures. He's basically encouraging them to play the deadliest form of the game with no one there to revive them,” Reid explained.</p>
<p>“Garcia, shut the site down,” Hotch ordered.</p>
<p>“Don’t,” Florence muttered sharply.</p>
<p>“What?” Hotch asked, raising an eyebrow at her.</p>
<p>“Sir, she’s right,” Garcia said, glancing at Florence. “Right now this site is our only way to track the unsub, and if I cut into it, he will certainly know we're watching him. In which case he'll shut it down and he'll write a simple change in code, and bring it back up in a more covert fashion. Plus there's no telling How many servers it's replicated on, anyway.”</p>
<p>“You're both right,” Hotch said, glancing at Florence again, who was staring away from the laptop screen. Again, it wasn’t the right time. “We're ready to give the profile.”</p>
<p>While the team gave the profile to the authorities, JJ held a meeting at a local church to warn parents about the game. And much to Florence's displeasure, she was asked to tag along with Reid and Morgan to a high school. They hoped that her younger presence might help connect with them. So, while Reid gave his presentation on strangulation, she sat on top of the teacher’s desk — much to his annoyance — and swung her legs back and forth.</p>
<p>“Two different mechanisms, strangulation and hyperventilation, create the same effect,” Reid explained. “Oxygen deprivation in the brain.”</p>
<p>Most of the students weren’t paying attention to him, which didn’t surprise Florence at all. Kids never took stuff like this seriously. Morgan also noticed their lack of interest and walked over to a boy that was texting under his desk.</p>
<p>“Hey, kid. Not a good idea. Let me see it,” he said, holding out his hand. Once he had the phone, he read the text message out loud. “What planet is this dude from? He doesn't want us to win the contest. Ooh, and your friend replied — I don’t know, but can he take me to the planet where the pink-haired babe came from.”</p>
<p>Everyone in the class snickered, and Florence rolled her eyes. “I’m assuming that was from the only other boy in this class who was smiling down at his crotch instead of paying attention — yeah, you with the ugly haircut in the back who is built like a spaghetti noodle. Do you even have a girlfriend because you don’t look cute enough to have ever had one of those? Now pay attention.”</p>
<p>The whole room cracked up, and Florence leaned back on the desk, smirking at the now embarrassed boy in the back. Once the laughing died down, Morgan gave the kid back his phone, and Reid continued talking.</p>
<p>“I, uh, I think the more accurate statement would be he doesn't want us to participate in the contest at all. This was Ryan's desk, right?” Reid asked, moving to the only empty desk in the room. “This is where Ryan sat? You guys remember Ryan. He, uh, played football. Took Shaunna to prom. I'm assuming that some of you were probably even friends with Ryan. Ryan wanted to win the contest, too. But the way Ryan choked himself, he cut off all the oxygen to his brain, which sent a distress signal to his heart, slowing it down. Then his brain, in an effort to preserve itself, shut off all non-essential bodily functions. His arms gave out. His legs gave out. Which means he couldn't loosen the tie around his neck. At which point panic set in, and in Ryan's case, it escalated to cardiac arrest. Which means that his heart stopped. Brain damage began, and within four minutes, he is completely and totally brain dead. He died scared and probably in a lot of pain and unable to stop what he thought he had complete control of. All because he wanted to participate in what I consider to be a pretty - pretty lame game. So, I mean, your text is actually completely accurate. I don't want you to win the contest, because I don't want you to play the game.”</p>
<p>For a moment, it seemed like Reid had gotten through to everyone. They sat and pictured what it was like for their friend to die. And then a little Gerard Way wannabe scoffed from the back of the class.</p>
<p>“You all believe this crap?”</p>
<p>“You don't?” one of the other kids asked. He shook his head.</p>
<p>“Why don't you come up here and tell us what you think,” Morgan said, not impressed with his attitude.</p>
<p>“Whatever,” the kid muttered.</p>
<p>When he got up, he slowly walked along the wall before making a break for the door. He ran away, but Morgan quickly chased after him. Florence slipped off the desk, but Reid grabbed her arm before she could follow.</p>
<p>“Stay here,” he instructed before following Morgan.</p>
<p>Florence looked longingly at the door. “I wanted to watch him tackle the twelve-year-old.”</p>
<p>“We’re not twelve. We aren’t little kids,” a girl on the front row of desks said, rolling her eyes.</p>
<p>“You hang yourselves in your bedrooms because you think it's a cool way to prove your better than another school full of stupid teens who think the exact same thing. Sounds pretty childish to me.”</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>Apparently, the kid, whose name was Christopher, ran because he had been choking himself for a while. He wore thick choker necklaces to help cover it up. Before Reid and Morgan took him to the hospital, they dropped Florence back off at the precinct. She stayed with Garcia and JJ, and they all watched the website for new activity. Florence also did a background check on Christopher. Unlike the four victims, he did fit the profile of a suicidal teen.</p>
<p>Soon, Christopher’s father and Sheriff Samuels arrived with his laptop. They got it to Florence and Garcia to go through, and the team stood back and watched. They both had to admit that Christopher was incredibly talented.</p>
<p>“Mary, this Christopher kid is fantastical,” Garcia said, amazed. “He's got a segmented hard drive, serious firewalls, and major league encryption.”</p>
<p>“This is the computer of someone who is hiding something serious,” Florence added.</p>
<p>“Ok, so that's why he isn't worried,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“This is — uhh! Unusual. Florence, go,” Garcia said, passing her the keyboard. She kept talking while Florence took a turn at breaking in. “Every attack I launch is shot down immediately.”</p>
<p>Then one of the other monitors beeped. “What's that?” JJ asked.</p>
<p>“Somebody just uploaded a new video to the game site,” Garcia told them.</p>
<p>“It's 12:01,” JJ realized, checking her watch.</p>
<p>“It's Friday. They're playing,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“It's only a matter of time before some of them go wrong,” Rossi told them.</p>
<p>“Guys, Florence and I are gonna keep dead-ending on this until we get a beat on how he set up his security system,” Garcia said.</p>
<p>Morgan and Reid came into the room. They had just finished trying to talk to Christopher, which got them nowhere.</p>
<p>“Hope you got a plan B,” Morgan told Hotch.</p>
<p>“Garcia, I think that this kid will relate to you better than anybody else. I want you to talk to him, see if you can get him to open up,” Hotch told her. “Florence can keep trying the system.”</p>
<p>“Um. Sir, I have never done that before,” Garcia said reluctantly. “What if I mess up? Why not Florence.”</p>
<p>“You'll be fine, Garcia,” Hotch said. He didn’t admit that the real reason he didn’t send in Florence was that he didn’t know if she was in the right headspace.</p>
<p>During the interview, Garcia had easily gained Christopher’s trust. She got him to talk about his system, which he said he downloaded from some link. So really, he wouldn’t be much help in cracking it. It didn’t matter anyway, because his father stormed in and demanded a lawyer.</p>
<p>Florence was trying her best to break the encryption, but it was tough when another video was posted. They were piling hers and Garcia’s plates even higher.</p>
<p>“That's four kids playing in half an hour,” Morgan said about the new video.</p>
<p>“How many kids go to this school?” JJ asked.</p>
<p>“Its catchment is the whole county. It's almost two thousand,” Reid answered. “Florence, we really need to gain administrative access to the website. I've written down a number of things Christopher may have used as the password. I've already eliminated birthdays, holidays, pet names, and pop culture icons.”</p>
<p>Florence sighed and glanced at the things he had written down. She knew there was a time crunch, but there was only so much she could do.</p>
<p>“No,” Garcia said, shaking her head. “There was something pathetic about him, Not criminal. When he was leaving, he said he misses his mom.”</p>
<p>“What's his mother's name?” Florence asked quickly.</p>
<p>“Cynthia Summers.”</p>
<p>“That's it,” Florence said after getting in.</p>
<p>“All right, login as administrator. Shut down the main source.”</p>
<p>“Obviously,” Florence muttered under her breath so that he wouldn’t hear. “Kids are still posting videos through independent servers though.”</p>
<p>“Pull up the website history,” Reid instructed. “See if you can learn anything from historical posts.”</p>
<p>Florence found past chat histories and printed them all off for Reid to go through. Then she passed Garcia the keyboard so she could keep going through the site.</p>
<p>“Wait, all these transmissions are transcripts of the same administrator?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, there's only one handle,” Garcia told him.</p>
<p>“This is weird. In the posts, his voice changes. At times he's using more articles, more precise verbiage like he's trying to throw us off.”</p>
<p>“That's pretty sophisticated behavior for a kid,” Morgan stated.</p>
<p>“A writer can disguise his own writing style to make himself appear younger or less educated.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but it's virtually impossible to pull off making yourself appear older and more educated than you actually are,” Morgan said to Reid.</p>
<p>“There are actually two distinct writing styles. Two writers using the same screen name. One teen and one adult,” Reid said just as the rest of the team came into the room. “Christopher was being manipulated by an adult.”</p>
<p>“The mother's death is a textbook case of Munchausen by proxy,” Hotch told them.</p>
<p>“Surreptitious poisoning,” Prentiss added.</p>
<p>“The kid has been choked and revived on multiple occasions,” Rossi said.</p>
<p>“You said the father worked for the fire department, right?” Reid asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah, for a couple of months now,” Samuels told him.</p>
<p>“In what capacity?”</p>
<p>“As an EMT.”</p>
<p>“EMT? That's our unsub,” Prentiss said.</p>
<p>“Christopher didn't even understand the wiping systems on his computer,” Garcia told them.</p>
<p>“So the father poses as a classmate and invites local kids to join the game,” Hotch said.</p>
<p>“Bumps up the stakes and encourages them to use their riskiest methods,” Morgan added.</p>
<p>“He works on Friday nights,” Samuels stated.</p>
<p>“Which means he gets called out to do the rescues. He's not just collecting videotapes. His Munchausen has evolved,” Reid said.</p>
<p>“I'll put out an APB for his truck,” Samuels said.</p>
<p>“He'll find a place to download the videotapes,” Reid said. “They're his trophies.”</p>
<p>“After that, he'll clean up his mess,” Rossi added.</p>
<p>“Christopher's the only witness against him,” Hotch said.</p>
<p>The team quickly set out to check for Summers at his house. They came up empty but searched it to try and figure out where he would take them. Then Garcia got a call from Hotch.</p>
<p>“Garcia?”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir?” she greeted.</p>
<p>“When you were talking to Christopher, did he say anything to you to suggest that he was giving up?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“Giving up?” Garcia asked, confused.</p>
<p>“Was he trying to say good-bye?” Hotch asked.</p>
<p>“I don't understand,” Garcia mumbled. Florence’s stomach dropped because she did understand. So did JJ.</p>
<p>“Did he give you anything?” JJ asked her.</p>
<p>“Yeah. How did you know that?”</p>
<p>“What did he give you?” she asked.</p>
<p>“When - when we were talking, he gave me this pirate's earring,” she said, showing it to them.</p>
<p>“He's made up his mind. Suicide. The only victory over his sadistic father,” Reid realized.</p>
<p>“He may also see it as reuniting with his mother,” Prentiss added.</p>
<p>“The father's going to want to download those videos from somewhere, Garcia. And we got to stop that process,” Morgan said urgently.</p>
<p>“I'm already on that,” hse said. “Florence replaced the website with a phishing site. She’s downloading it to the servers now. When he logs onto that website, he's going to be rerouted to our server, and we can capture his information.”</p>
<p>“Stay on that site,” Hotch ordered.</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>Shortly after, they headed to a nearby cemetery, where Christopher and his father were at. Summers attempted to download all the videos, but Garcia and Florence had prevented it. The team arrived just as Summers was trying to choke Christopher to death. He went off in the ambulance while Summers was arrested. And they were able to tell the parents of the victims that their children hadn’t really committed suicide, though it’s not like it made their passing any easier for them.</p>
<p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p>
<p>The team was exhausted and thrilled to be able to go home. They all climbed on the jet, ready to sleep through some of what was left of the weekend before returning to work.</p>
<p>For the first half of the flight, no one had bothered Florence. She had curled up in the seat furthest from the team and leaned her head tiredly against the window. She didn’t sleep though, just looked out at the night sky flying by. JJ had been watching her for a while before going to sit next to her.</p>
<p>“Hey,” she said softly, offering a smile. She held out a Cherry flavored Capri Sun. “Got it from your go-bag. Looked like you could use it.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Florence mumbled, reaching a hand from under her blanket to grab it. Then it disappeared under the covers before popping up near her mouth.</p>
<p>“Ren, are you alright?” JJ asked her in a quiet tone so she wouldn’t wake any of the others up or draw the attention of Hotch and Morgan, the only other two that were up.</p>
<p>Florence shrugged in response. “It was just… a difficult case I guess.”</p>
<p>“I know,” JJ said, frowning as she reached up to hold her necklace. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I just wanted to at least check on you.”</p>
<p>Florence was quiet for several moments, and JJ watched as her eyes started to water.</p>
<p>“I don’t know if anyone on the team has noticed, but I don’t exactly talk about my life before coming here a lot,” she whispered. “I don’t like to think about what it was like — what I was like. The things I went through and felt. But I can’t really help but think of it on a case like this.”</p>
<p>She shed a single tear and clenched her eyes shut like she was trying to force it to go back in. JJ’s heart broke as she watched it.</p>
<p>“I just, I wanted to be adopted so <em>bad</em>, ya know? I wanted a family who wanted me and who loved me. Every time I thought I had a chance, I’d do something stupid or they’d change their mind about me. I got sent back <em>eight</em> times. Eight really nice families took me in and then got to know me and changed their minds. I got moved from group home to group home, and never stayed at one school long enough to make any real friends that cared about me. I just needed someone to care about me, but no one did. Not in such a big city.”</p>
<p>“And I don’t - I <em>don’t</em> feel like that anymore. I don’t. And I can look at you and mean it when I say that I don’t want to die, which is something that I wouldn’t have believed five years ago.”</p>
<p>Florence hid her face in the blanket to try and hide the fact that she was crying heavily now. JJ scooted closer and pulled her into her arms as quiet tears started to fall from her own eyes. Hotch and Morgan looked over in alarm, but she shook her head, telling them to stay where they were.</p>
<p>“T - that’s why I try so hard to make sure all of you guys are happy all the time,” she said, her breath catching. “I’m so h - happy and grateful that I wake up every day and get to come here and see you. Be - because I have a team, a f - family that I know wants me and isn’t going to try and return like some junky toy that wasn’t as perfect as you wanted.”</p>
<p>JJ hugged her tighter and ran a hand through Florence's hair in a comforting manner.</p>
<p>“I love the life that I have now, but there’s no way to forget the fact that less than three years ago, I didn’t want to be here. And there wasn’t a single person in my life that cared if I was or wasn’t. So, cases like this just - I never want to go on a case like this ever again.”</p>
<p>“So you won’t,” JJ said. “And no one will question it. Because this team cares about you more than anything, and we love you. You know that, right?”</p>
<p>She felt Florence nod against her shoulder. “I know. I know.”</p>
<p>“Good, because we won’t ever let you forget it.”</p>
<p>After a few more minutes, Florence calmed down enough to look up at JJ. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” she said softly while using the blanket to wipe Florence’s cheek.</p>
<p>“You know, Henry is really lucky to have you as his mom.”</p>
<p>“He’s really lucky to have you as an aunt. He’s almost big enough to use the Nerf gun now.”</p>
<p>Both of them were crying, but they were smiling now, and things were going to be alright.</p>
<p>“Once he knows how to walk, we can ambush Will. He won’t know what hit him.”</p>
<p>Eventually, Florence fell asleep while JJ was still holding her. She sat there a little longer before getting up, gently laying Florence across the couch as she did. JJ made her way over to Hotch and Morgan, who had been worriedly watching the pair.</p>
<p>“Is she alright?” Morgan asked, frowning. He had wanted to go check on Florence when she had started crying, but JJ had held him off when she shook her head.</p>
<p>“She’ll be okay,” JJ said, taking a seat across from them and wiping under her eyes to make sure all the tears were gone. “I think she just… needs to know we’re all here for her.”</p>
<p>Hotch didn’t take his eyes off her sleeping form as he spoke softly. "Of course."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. GONE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>y'all said you wanted trauma, so here she is</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>“don’t call her a victim”</strong>
</p><p>
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</p><p>“Briefing room. <em>Now</em>,” JJ said, rushing through the bullpen with her arm full of folders.</p><p>“C’mon, it’s almost the weekend,” Derek said, groaning and sharing a tired look with Prentiss.</p><p>“Now!” JJ said again, this time raising her voice. She didn’t give them a second look as she burst into Hotch’s office to get him and Rossi.</p><p>Everyone filed into the briefing room and took a seat at the table. They watched as JJ hurried to pass out the files.</p><p>“What’s the emergency, JJ?” Rossi asked, picking up his file.</p><p>“Ashley Wilson, Martha Bishop, and Sasha McCall have all been found dead in Manhattan in the last three weeks.” As JJ named the girls off, she clicked the remote in her hand and their pictures appeared on the screen.</p><p>The room fell silent. It was clear why JJ had them meet right away. The resemblance to all the victims was undeniable, and unfortunately, Florence fit the profile to a T. They were all young girls in their late teens or twenties, but the important part was the hair. Each girl was a brunette but parts of their hair were dyed bright pink — one girl had streaks all throughout and the other two had the bottom dyed exactly like Florence.</p><p>“Each girl was taken on a Friday and then their bodies turned up the following Monday night.”</p><p>“Florence is in Manhattan,” Garcia said in a weak voice. “Oh my god.”</p><p>Florence had agreed last minute to join her old roommate in New York for the week. They had tickets to a few Broadway shows and planned to get a lot of sightseeing in. She had been quite excited about it and the chance to maybe reconnect with her roommate.</p><p>Reid frowned as he looked through the file. “It seems that all of this is happening in the same twenty-mile radius. They go missing and are found in the same city, meaning that the unsub could live in the area.”</p><p>“All the victims were found dressed in nightgowns. The only physical marks are around their wrists, which looks like it could be from chains,” Rossi said, flipping to the images from the dumpsites. “It’s odd. He cut off the parts of their hair that are dyed pink.”</p><p>“Maybe that’s his trophy,” Prentiss suggested. “Look at how the bodies were placed. Their hair is brushed. He put makeup on them and dressed them up. They were all laid neatly with their hands crossed over their chest. It suggests there’s some remorse.”</p><p>“Asphyxiation is the cause of death. It’s possible he chose this method in order to preserve how they look,” Reid added.</p><p>“Guys, why is no one talking about the huge elephant in the room?” Garcia asked, worry creeping up on her. “Today is Friday, Florence is in the area where the girls were taken, and she fits the unsub’s type exactly.”</p><p>“I - I don't have a statistic, but today’s youth are certainly dying their hair more, and pink is a very popular color. It’s highly likely that there is a large number of young girls with pink hair in the Manhattan area on a Friday night.”</p><p>Garcia nodded, though Reid’s knowledge didn’t do much to comfort her. “I’m gonna call her and warn her. She can just hang around the police station until you guys get there.”</p><p>The team anxiously waited as Garcia dialed her number. It rang once before going straight to voicemail.</p><p>
  <em>“What up? This is Ren. Leave a message and I’ll probably get back to you.”</em>
</p><p>Garcia couldn’t help but automatically assume the worst. “She didn’t pick up. Why isn’t she picking up? What if—”</p><p>“Mama, you gotta try to calm down,” Derek said, taking her shaking hand. Of course, they were all worried, but they had to be able to focus on the case.</p><p>Reid cleared his throat and gave a hopeful smile. “Actually, I think I know why she didn’t pick up. I looked at her schedule for her trip the other day. She has tickets to see Hamilton on Broadway. The show started almost two hours ago. Her phone would be turned off for that. We should be close to New York around the time the show gets out. We can call and warn her then.”</p><p>Garcia let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, I am so thankful for that big, eidetic brain of yours.”</p><p>“Wheels up in ten,” Hotch told them, not wanting to think about the possibility of Florence being taken.</p><p>No one wasted any time in heading to the plane. Not only was it a bad case, but Florence could potentially be in danger. The most important thing to all of them was her safety. Once the jet took off, they looked back over victimology.</p><p>“Garcia, I wanna know everywhere that they went in the weeks leading up to their kidnapping,” Hotch instructed her over the video call. “I wanna know every time they used their credit cards and each subway stop they went to.”</p><p>“Got it.”</p><p>“All three of them were from different states, have different jobs, and seemingly never knew each other,” Prentiss said. “They only share the same hair color.”</p><p>“There are no defensive wounds, so it’s likely the unsub either drugged them or used a weapon to intimidate them and keep them from fighting back,” Morgan said. “Did toxicology find anything?”</p><p>Reid flipped to the report in his folder and scanned it. “There were small traces of Propofol in their systems. It’s likely he injected them with it to keep them from fighting back. It’d keep them knocked out just long enough to get them restrained with the chains.”</p><p>“Alright. It’s a start. JJ, head to the station and get everything set up. The rest of us will split up and look at the last places the girls were seen and the dumpsites. The latest site is supposed to still be marked off,” Hotch instructed.</p><p>As Morgan began to list off things to check for at the dumpsites, JJ’s phone rang. She stepped away and he began to list different methods the unsub could have used to go unseen. Reid was the only one to pay attention to JJ, who had suddenly placed her hand on the cabin wall as if she was about to fall over.</p><p>“JJ?” he questioned softly, which drew everyone else’s attention. They waited quietly for her to finish the call.</p><p>“Thank you. Officer. We’ll head there as soon as we land to interview her,” she said, her voice sounding shaky. Then she turned to face the others, who quickly saw the tears building up in her eyes. “That was the NYPD. A girl came in and reported that her friend as missing.”</p><p>There was a pause, and dread began to set in. “Does she fit the victimology?” Rossi asked.</p><p>“It’s Florence. She’s gone.”</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>The world felt heavy when she woke up. Florence hadn’t known what hit her. One minute she was waiting to meet back with her friends after getting separated, and the next, everything was black. She had felt a sharp stinging sensation in her neck, but before she could turn around to investigate, she was out like a light, barely feeling the rough hands that grabbed her.</p><p>The room was blurry, so she moved to rub her pounding head. However, she found that she couldn’t move her hand more than a few inches. She groaned and tilted her head to see what was holding her back. Her wrists had thick metal cuffs around them, and those were attached to chains on a wall. She was chained up in the middle of a darkly lit room with her arms stretched wide, her feet barely touching the floor.</p><p>As her head began to clear up, she realized the horrible truth. Florence had been kidnapped.</p><p>Panic began to set in as she looked around the room. There were no windows and only one door across the room. There was some kind of camera set up next to it, pointed right at her. Near her left was a small metal table that only had a pair of scissors on it.</p><p>Florence groaned and let her heavy head fall down. That was when she saw that whoever took her had changed her clothes. She felt sick at her stomach as she studied the fancy pink nightgown she had been put in.</p><p>“Oh, God, I’m gonna get murdered by a psychopath with a weird sixties lingerie kink,” she mumbled, feeling the back of her eyes sting. The next thing she took note of was her hair. Her hair, which used to be long, was choppily cut off at her chin, effectively getting rid of the pink dyed strands. She yanked on the chains, which did nothing but make noise. “Why the fuck did you cut my hair, you weirdo? That upkeep is expensive! Let me out!”</p><p>No one entered the room, but a deep voice sounded throughout the room. Florence figured there was some kind of speaker behind her.</p><p>“Be still, my little Baby Doll. I can’t see you as good with you squirming around like that.”</p><p>“Let me go, you sick freak!” she exclaimed, halting her movements. “I work for the FBI. They’ll be looking for me, and they will find you.”</p><p>“Oh, Baby Doll, I know all about where you work. I found your badge,” the man said, chuckling. “They won’t catch me. We’re nowhere near where you were taken and nowhere near where your body will be found. Now be still and let me watch.”</p><p>“Is that what you want? You wanna torture and murder me? Get it over with then!” she said, tugging on the chains again. “But you better make it fucking good because they will hunt you down and the only thing you’ll be watching is the four walls of your cell.”</p><p>“Stop moving!”</p><p>“Let me go!”</p><p>Florence didn’t listen and kept pulling on her restraints. She turned her head to see if there was anything behind her or see if she could spot a speaker, but the room was empty. The sound of the door alerted her to someone coming in the room, but before she could turn and look at him, something stabbed her neck, and once again her world went dark.</p><p>Her last thought was of her team, and she hoped they could find her.</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>When Hotch, JJ, and Rossi arrived at the police station, they were immediately greeted by the Captain of the Precinct, Wilson Marks.</p><p>“Thank you for arriving so quickly,” he said, leading them to the room he had set aside for them. They could see a young redheaded girl sitting inside, nervously chewing on her fingernails. A boy stood next to her, looking equally as upset, but rubbing her shoulders to try and make her feel better. “Agent Jareau informed me that the new victim is an agent of yours. I have her friend ready to be questioned.”</p><p>“Thank you, Captain Marks,” Hotch said, nodding.</p><p>They entered the room and the girl immediately stood up and grabbed the boy’s hand. “Y - you guys are FBI right? You know Ren. You're all she's talked about the last few days. You can find her, right? You have to find her. Officer Marks told me about those other girls that were taken and I can’t—”</p><p>JJ stepped in, seeing that she was panicking. “Hey, we have every single resource focused on locating Florence. We’re going to need you to tell us everything up to the point where you noticed Florence was missing. Can you do that?”</p><p>Both of them nodded.</p><p>“Good. What are your names?” JJ asked, trying to get them to calm down a little.</p><p>“Jess,” the girl said. “This is Chandler, my boyfriend. I was her roommate back when she lived in Seattle.”</p><p>“Are you the roommate’s boyfriend that bet her twenty bucks to break into the Pentagon database?” JJ asked, smiling in amusement. Chandler chuckled a little, though he was too upset to tell the story. “Well, I’m Agent Jeraeu and these are SSA Hotchner and SSA Rossi. They’re gonna ask you some questions.”</p><p>Hotch and Rossi took seats at the table across from the two teenagers while JJ left to start putting evidence up on the board.</p><p>“Start from the beginning. Where were you? Where did you go? Did you see Florence speak with anyone?” Rossi asked them.</p><p>“We had tickets to see Hamilton. Everything was normal. It let out and we decided to wait outside until the cast came out. They were talking to fans and signing Playbills,” Chandler explained. “That was where we split up.”</p><p>“I wanted to meet Daveed Diggs, so Chandler and I went over to wait and meet him. The line for Lin Manuel Miranda was shorter so she went to him,” Jess explained.</p><p>“We couldn’t find her once we finished up. We walked up and down Broadway trying to find her, but she disappeared,” Chandler said. “She wouldn’t answer her phone either.”</p><p>“Someone took her. Ren wouldn’t just wander off in a city she isn’t familiar with and not pick up her phone,” Jess said, beginning to cry. “We came here to report it, and then we saw the girls on their evidence board. It’s the hair, right? She’s gonna end up just like those other girls. Oh, God!”</p><p>Chandler pulled Jess closer and let her cry in his chest. Rossi and Hotch shared a look.</p><p>“Did you ever see Florence with Miranda? Did she make it to him before she was taken?” Rossi asked.</p><p>“Y - yeah,” Jess said, fumbling for her phone. “She sent me a pic of them on Snapchat and I screenshotted it.”</p><p>She showed them her phone, which contained the image of Florence wrapping her arms around the Hamilton star.</p><p>“Can you send that to me?” JJ asked her. “We can circulate the image and let officers know what she was last wearing.”</p><p>“How long was it from when you received that image and noticed you couldn’t find Florence?” Hotch asked.</p><p>“Maybe ten, fifteen minutes tops,” Chandler told them. “The wait for us was longer and we weren’t thinking about it.”</p><p>“Y - you guys are gonna find her, right?” Jess asked, wiping under her eyes. “You have to.”</p><p>“We’re doing everything we can to locate her. Thank you, and if we have any more questions, we’ll contact you,” Rossi told them. JJ led them out of the room and Rossi turned to Hotch, who was thinking deeply.</p><p>“We should check surveillance cameras outside Broadway. She should be on them,” Hotch stated. “We’ll need to bring Miranda in for questioning.”</p><p>“You wanna bring one of the biggest Broadway stars in the world in for questioning for a murder investigation?” Captain Marks asked, chuckling. “I know you guys don’t like it when the media gets in your way, but the minute he walks in this precinct, that goes out the window.”</p><p>“I can handle them,” JJ stated firmly.</p><p>“We’ll check the cameras then pay a visit to Mr. Miranda,” Rossi told them. “JJ, call Garcia and have her find the footage.”</p><p>Once JJ was on the phone, Rossi turned to Hotch, who was frowning. “What?”</p><p>“We should have prevented this. I could’ve done more to stop this.”</p><p>“Hold up,” Rossi said, crossing his arms. “I know you blame yourself for a lot of things, but you can’t for this. There is nothing we could’ve done to prevent this. The timing was just too exact.”</p><p>“We could’ve called the NYPD ahead of landing and organized a protective escort for her from the theater to the precinct,” Hotch explained.</p><p>Rossi sighed and pat Hotch on the back. “It’s always harder when we know the victims.”</p><p>“<em>Don’t</em> call her a victim,” Hotch said, his voice growing unsteady — it had been the only physical hint that he wasn’t totally calm. “Dave, I don't - I don’t think that I can take anything happening to her. After Haley… I just can’t.”</p><p>“We’ll find her, Aaron,” he reassured her. “And then I’m gonna tell her all about this and she’ll make fun of you and call you Hopscotch.”</p><p>Hotch let out a sad chuckle. “Alright. Let’s look at what we’ve got.”</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>The second time that Florence woke up from being drugged, she felt much more uncomfortable than before. She quickly realized that it was because there was now a metal collar attached to her neck which was chained to the ceiling. She could barely move her head and it forced her to look ahead at the camera. There wasn’t a light on it to signify if it was on, but she couldn't be sure.</p><p>“A collar? I thought I was your Baby Doll, not a fucking dog!” she shouted, not knowing if he was listening.</p><p>On the outside, Florence looked relatively calm and unbothered. To the unsub, she just seemed annoyed and pissed. She was just thankful he didn’t know how truly terrified she was.</p><p>“C’mon, guys,” she whispered to herself, her voice cracking. “Now would be a great time for you to dramatically kick the door down, Derek.”</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>Hotch, Rossi, and JJ all stood around a computer as Garcia pulled up the CCTV footage of the last time Florence was seen. The frame was positioned close to the back entrance of the building that Hamilton was performed in. Several of the cast members were outside, each with their own line of people to meet them. In the far right corner was Florence. She was standing next to Lin Manuel Miranda and they were talking excitedly together.</p><p>“How come Miranda doesn’t have a big crowd? Florence is the only one near him,” Hotch pointed out.</p><p>“Ah, Sir, that’s because she has bad taste in Broadway actors,” Garcia said, scoffing. “I mean, Leslie Odom Jr. and Daveed Diggs are <em>right</em> there.”</p><p>“Garcia, focus,” Rossi said, though he chuckled. “And is there a better view? They’re almost completely out of the shot.”</p><p>“No, this is the last one on that end of the street. They are too spaced out. I already checked the surrounding cameras — this is the last one she’s on.”</p><p>They focused on the footage. Florence stood and talked with Miranda for several minutes. They laughed about some things, took a selfie, and hugged. The footage went on for about ten minutes before they hit a problem.</p><p>“Woah, wait,” Hotch said, pointing at the screen. “They both just left the shot.”</p><p>It was true — one of the other actors had to get past Florence and Miranda to get inside the building, meaning they needed to move to the side. That put them completely out of the camera’s view. It took exactly two minutes and forty-two seconds for Miranda to step back in the shot, but Florence wasn’t with him. Miranda greeted another fan for only a moment before returning to the building.</p><p>“See, I’m no profiler but I know what you’re thinking and I want to find Florence just as much as you guys but Lin Manuel Miranda did not kidnap and murder those girls,” Garcia stated before anyone else could get a word in. “Also, can one of you get his autograph for me?”</p><p>“You just said you don’t like him,” JJ pointed out.</p><p>Garcia shrugged. “I’ll take what I can get. Now, go find our girl.”</p><p>An hour later, Lin Manuel Miranda was sitting in an interrogation room, confused and tired. He knew his phone would be blowing up with questions from his fellow actors — it was understandable considering that the FBI had barged in and removed him from a late rehearsal. He hadn’t received any answers and was only told they had to ask him some questions regarding a kidnapping and murder investigation.</p><p>The rest of the team waited on the other side of the two-way mirror, watching as he fidgeted.</p><p>“So, who’s going in?” Reid asked.</p><p>“I am,” Hotch said, not taking his eyes off of Miranda. “Morgan, you’re with me.”</p><p>“Okay, what’s the angle?” he asked.</p><p>“We’re not accusing him of anything,” Hotch told them. “He doesn’t fit the profile and it’s unlikely that he’d have the time to pull off these murders with his busy schedule. He may have seen the person who took her.”</p><p>“It is interesting though that the bodies are dumped on Mondays, which is his only day of the week off,” Spencer stated. He simply shrugged when the others looked at him questionably. “I’m with Hotch. I don’t think he did it. I just think it’s interesting. Besides, the other victims were kidnapped in other areas while Miranda would be doing a show.”</p><p>Hotch nodded to Morgan and they filed into the interrogation room. Miranda sat straighter and put his hands on the metal table.</p><p>“Look, I - I don’t know what you think I did, but I didn’t do it,” he said, running a hand through his hair.</p><p>“Denying the crime before hearing the crime isn’t a great way to start off an interrogation, Mr. Miranda,” Morgan said. Hotch took a seat while Morgan stayed standing, crossing his arms over his chest to appear more intimidating.</p><p>“So, I <em>am</em> being accused of a crime?” Miranda asked, confused.</p><p>“Mr. Miranda, do you remember meeting this girl?” Hotch asked.</p><p>As he spoke, he pulled out the image of him and Florence that Jess gave them and slid it across the table. Miranda glanced between Hotch and Morgan — the latter of which gave him an intimidating glare which immediately made him look away, scared. Miranda studied the picture with a frown.</p><p>“Um, yeah, I met her after the show. She was really sweet and funny. I can’t think of her name though.”</p><p>“You spoke to her for over ten minutes but you can’t bother to remember her name?” Morgan asked, glaring at him. “Her name is Florence Sabin.”</p><p>Miranda put his hands up in defense. “I - I meet a lot of fans every day. I do better with their faces than their names. Wh - what does this have to do with her?”</p><p>Instead of replying right away, Hotch then laid out the pictures of the previous victims when they were found. Miranda covered his mouth and stared down at them before turning his head.</p><p>“Are… are those girls dead?”</p><p>“And Florence is next,” Hotch said, keeping his face hard. His chest was aching at the thought of finding her body just like the others.</p><p>“I still don’t know why I’m here. Wh - what? Do you think I did this or something?” Morgan and Hotch stayed silent and Miranda’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Holy shit, you think I had something to do with this?”</p><p>“You were the very last person to see Florence,” Morgan said. “We have you two talking on camera, then for two minutes and forty-two seconds, you both move out of the shot before you step back in frame without her. Minutes later, her friends realize they can’t find her and go to the police to report her as missing.”</p><p>“So, you can’t see me for two and a half minutes and now you think I killed this girl?” he asked, sinking in his chair.</p><p>Morgan put his hands on the table and leaned over Miranda. “You’re gonna tell us every single thing that you can remember about meeting her. Everything you heard, said, and saw. Her life is in danger and the clock is ticking, so get to talking.”</p><p>“O - okay,” he stuttered out. He shut his eyes for a few moments, doing his best to recall the encounter. “Florence came up to me and complimented me on the show. I signed her Playbook and we took a couple of pictures. She told me that Hamilton was the first Broadway show she got to see in person instead of on a blurry bootlegged YouTube video.”</p><p>Those on the other side of the glass couldn’t help but chuckle — of course, she watched illegal recordings of musicals.</p><p>“What else?” Hotch pressed.</p><p>“We moved to the side when Pippa needed to get by. Florence thanked me for talking with her, we hugged again, and she walked away. Sh - she was leaning against a wall and looking down at her phone when I went back inside.”</p><p>“Was there anyone that stood out to you nearby? Was anyone watching her? What was going on around you?” Morgan asked.</p><p>“It was Friday night — the streets were crowded. There were too many people for anyone to stand out even if I was looking for something,” he said. Miranda rubbed his face in distress and sighed.</p><p>“What about cars parked on the street?” Hotch asked.</p><p>“Uh, taxis, mostly — I remember there was a big gray truck. Anthony had made a joke about the driver overcompensating for something when we came out.”</p><p>Hotch looked at Morgan. That could be the car they were looking for and it would be big enough to shove her into.</p><p>“Guys, I’m sorry but I don’t know anything else, and I had nothing to do with this. I swear,” Miranda said. “I - I don’t even have the time to kidnap someone. When I’m not doing shows, I’m doing interviews and working on other projects. I am sorry that something has happened to her, but I—”</p><p>He was cut off by Reid awkwardly poking his head in the door. “Hotch, Morgan,” he said, nervously looking between them. “Something’s happened.”</p><p>Hotch and Morgan nodded and followed Reid out of the room, leaving Miranda alone. “So, am I allowed to leave?” he asked, but got no response. “I - I have rehearsal. <em>Hello?</em>”</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>Reid led Hotch and Morgan out of the briefing room and into the evidence room, where everyone else was. Captain Marks was holding a big brown paper bag in one hand and was holding a young boy by the hood of his sweatshirt with the other.</p><p>“This kid dropped this off and said some guy on the street paid him forty bucks to quote, “Give this to the FBI agents looking for my Baby Doll.” Said he didn’t know him, but I brought him in so you could see him.”</p><p>Marks forced the kid into a chair and then passed the bag to Hotch. Hotch eyed it for a moment before he put on a set of gloves and pulled everything out of it. The first thing he took out was a plastic bag full of hair. <em>Pink hair.</em></p><p>“Is that — oh my god,” Prentiss gasped, covering her mouth.</p><p>Then he pulled out her FBI badge. The last item was a slip of paper. The only thing on it was a typed out URL.</p><p>He passed the paper to Morgan. “Get this to Garcia.” Then he turned to the kid, who was shaking in his hoodie. “Tell me everything about the man who gave you this.”</p><p>“I already told the other guy. He came up to me and offered me the money. He had a hood over his face and it was dark so I can’t tell you what he looks like. And he was wearing gloves too.”</p><p>“Is there anything else you can tell us? What did he sound like? How was he dressed?” Prentiss asked.</p><p>“Well, he was bigger than him,” he said, pointing at Reid, “but smaller than him.” That time he nodded to Hotch. “He was wearing all black and had a really deep voice. That’s all. Am… am I in trouble.”</p><p>“No,” Hotch said, crossing his arms. “Captain Marks, we’re done with him.”</p><p>Once the kid was gone, Morgan got everyone’s attention. “Guys, Garcia says we gotta see this,” he said, opening up the laptop.</p><p>“I can’t tell if it’s live or prerecorded.”</p><p>Everyone simultaneously felt their stomachs drop as they saw what was on the screen. It was Florence in an empty room, chained up. Her hair was chopped off at her chin, the rest of it being in the bag they had received. The unsub had already dressed her like the other victims.</p><p>“Garcia—”</p><p>“I’m already trying to lock a signal. It’ll take some time to try and get a location.”</p><p>“Keep at it,” Hotch said, not taking his eyes off the screen.</p><p>“She appears unharmed,” Reid noted. “Like the others, he hasn’t tortured her. And it’s only Saturday. We still have another two days to find her.”</p><p>“We can’t rely on that timeline,” Rossi said, frowning. He picked up Florence’s badge. “He knows she’s an FBI agent. He’s already straying from his usual methods by sending us the hair and video. He’s devolving.”</p><p>“Look,” Morgan said, calling their attention back to the screen. “Someone’s coming in.”</p><p>They watched as the unsub stepped in the room. He had a ski mask over his face so that he wouldn't give his identity away. He looked just like the kid had described him.</p><p>“Smile, Baby Doll. You have an audience.” The unsub had a low, gravelly voice that sent chills down their backs.</p><p>Florence opened her eyes to look at him, rolled them, and then closed them again. “Get fucked.”</p><p>The unsub reached out and grabbed the chain attached to her neck, choking her. “That’s no way to speak in front of your fellow Agents.”</p><p>“What?” she asked, coughing. The unsub let up on the chain the slightest bit.</p><p>The unsub pointed to the camera, which Florence looked directly into. Her eyes widened, realizing that her team — her family — was watching. She looked determined not to let them see her fear.</p><p>“What kind of dumbass sends a video of themselves right to the FBI?” she asked, glaring at him. “It’s like you’re asking to get caught.”</p><p>Morgan sighed and rubbed his forehead. “She’s acting tough because she doesn’t want him to know she’s scared of him.”</p><p>“But that’s smart, right?” Garcia asked, biting her lip.</p><p>“With some unsubs, yes. But others get angry and lash out at the victims if they don't show fear or cooperate,” Rossi said, keeping his eyes glued to the screen. “He may not know it, but we learn more and more about him the longer this video continues.”</p><p>“You need to learn to control that mouth of yours,” the unsub snapped. Again, he yanked on her collar, making her cry out. She instinctively pulled on the chains, trying to get away. “And what did I say about moving?”</p><p>Florence looked up at him, but instead of another snarky reply, she spit in his face. That was the thing that set him off. The unsub roared and reared his fist back before punching her in the face. Garcia had to look away, not able to stomach it.</p><p>The unsub didn’t slow down now that he was started. The more he hit her, the louder Florence’s screams got.</p><p>“Look what you made me do to you, Baby Doll!” he yelled angrily. He grabbed Florence by the neck and pulled her closer. His nose trailed across her bruised jaw, and she tried to squirm away. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but now I have to.”</p><p>The image cut away before the sound did.</p><p>The screen went black but they could still hear the rattling of chains, skin hitting skin, and Florence’s choked sobs. But the last part was the worst.</p><p>“No, stop! AH! Help — <em>HOTCH!</em> PLEASE!”</p><p>The sound cut out and the room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Slowly, they each put their gaze on Hotch to see his reaction. He was bent over a chair, gripping the back of it so tightly that his knuckles turned white and they wondered if the chair would break.</p><p>“Hotch,” Prentiss said, hesitantly.</p><p>“Garcia, find where that video came from,” Hotch ordered. “Everyone else, think about how what we just saw changes the profile. We’re bringing her home.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. SAFE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>“she is screaming for me to help, and i’m not there”</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>It was six more hours of retracing their steps and looking over suspects and adjusting the profile and looking for the truck, hoping for a break in the case. It was three in the morning and everyone was exhausted, but they weren’t slowing down. They were wide awake and running on countless cups of coffee. The longer they went without finding something helpful, the worse they all became.</p><p>Reid stared at the map, trying to find a hint in the geographical profile. JJ stood by his side, and when he started pulling at his hair in frustration, she took his hand.</p><p>“We’ll find her, Spence,” she said softly. Despite her own feelings, JJ did her best to keep her head. She had plenty of practice dealing with families who were missing their children, and that was what Florence was like to them.</p><p>“But what if we don’t?” Reid asked, closing his eyes. “W - what if we—”</p><p>JJ cut him off by hugging him tightly. He tucked his head in her shoulder and stopped trying to fight off the tears he had yet to shed. She was also doing her best not to think about her last real conversation with Florence on the plane ride back. She had confessed to no longer wanting to die, and now she was on the brink of it. It tore JJ apart to think about it.</p><p>In another room, Morgan sat on the phone with Garcia, keeping her company while she tried to get a lock on the video while he looked through past crime reports that fit the profile.</p><p>“Are Prentiss, Rossi, and Hotch still…” Garcia trailed off, sniffing.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, sighing. “They keep watching it to see if they catch something new. I don’t think there’s anything else to get from it though.”</p><p>“God, I couldn’t even stomach it the first time,” she mumbled, wiping her eyes. “And her screams at the end? D - Derek, she’s just a kid. She’s my baby girl and I can’t - I can’t lose her.”</p><p>Garcia started to cry all over again and Moran tried to comfort her the best he could over the phone. It was difficult though, as he himself was trying not to lose hope as well.</p><p>
  <em>“Help — HOTCH! PLEASE!”</em>
</p><p>“Again,” Hotch said, not taking his eyes away from the screen. He had removed his bracelet from Florence and had been anxiously toying with it in his hands.</p><p>“Aaron,” Dave said softly. “You’re torturing yourself. We’ve altered the profile as much as we can with what’s in the video.”</p><p>“He’s right,” Prentiss said, sighing. She flipped through the notes they had made while rewatching the video. “Let’s turn it off and focus on what we know.”</p><p>Hotch still didn’t look away from the screen. Rossi sent a look to Prentiss, who nodded before closing the laptop. Rossi put a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“After Foyet, she told me that she trusted me with her life,” Hotch said, closing his eyes. “And now it’s in danger and I can’t find her. She is screaming for <em>me</em> to help, and I’m not there.”</p><p>“If anyone in the world can find her, it’s this team,” Rossi told Hotch. “You cannot give up hope, right now. That’s what the unsub wanted by sending us the video. We’ll find her, Hotch.”</p><p>“But in what condition?” he asked, his voice cracking. He clenched his eyes shut and took in a deep breath. Prentiss and Rossi stepped to the side to let him collect himself. “Alright. Let’s get back to the others.</p><p>It was a few more hours of work before Garcia finally called them back with a lead.</p><p>“Tell me you traced the video,” Morgan answered, desperation clear in his voice.</p><p>“No, but I didn’t call for nothing,” she replied. “I might have something.”</p><p>“I’m putting you on speaker, Baby Girl.”</p><p>“Okay, so as previously stated, there’s a ridiculously long list of men in New York with tragic backstories and criminal records. But I may have found him.”</p><p>“Go on,” Hotch said, as he leaned against a chair and rubbed his forehead.</p><p>“In 1975, a six-year-old Ned Halliwell was found alone in his house with his teenage sister’s body, who died while watching him for the weekend. Authorities think that he was with her body for three full days. He sat and watched her body for three days. I looked up crime scene photos and she is dressed exactly like the other victims and Florence in the video. Not only that, but she was found in the exact same position that the bodies have been placed. And guess what color her hair was? That’s right — pink. Halliwell has a history that starts with vandalism and killing birds but ends with assault charges.”</p><p>“That’s gotta be him,” Prentiss said.</p><p>“Address?” Rossi asked. Everyone was already grabbing their guns and vests.</p><p>“An hour away in Upstate New York, but it’ll be faster with the sirens. I just sent it to each of you.”</p><p>“Good work, Garcia.”</p><p>“Just please bring her back alive.”</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>Florence had never felt worse. She was beaten and bruised, and horribly cut up on her arms and stomach. It had been a long time since she could last feel her left arm. At the times when she felt strong enough to open her eyes, she could only focus on the pool of her blood at her feet. Breathing was difficult and so was her ability to think positively.</p><p>Florence was beginning to give up on the fact that the others might find her. She had no idea where she was or really how long she had been there. She felt weak and pathetic, but most of all she was kicking herself because the last thing the team would hear from her would be her screams. It was horrible, knowing that they had to watch.</p><p>So when the door opened again, she didn’t give a shit. Florence didn’t have the energy to snap at him or even look at him. When she felt his hand graze her bruised cheek, she clenched her eyes shut.</p><p>“Have you finally learned your manners?”</p><p>She only whimpered in response.</p><p>“Don’t worry, Baby Doll. I’m almost finished with you.”</p><p>Just as he ran his hands through her now shortened hair, he cursed. Florence strained to hear over the blood pounding in her ears, and just barely, she could make out the sound of sirens. She laughed humorlessly and some blood dripped down her chin. Her eyes met his own, which were filled with panic.</p><p>“You’re going to jail, bitch.”</p><p>“Be quiet!” he hissed.</p><p>The unsub stood behind her and grabbed her hair tightly. With his other hand, he grabbed the scissors he had used to cut her hair and held them up to her throat just as Morgan kicked the door down. Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch ran in the room, guns raised. Florence could see Prentiss just past the door.</p><p>“Ned Halliwell, stand down,” Hotch ordered, glaring fiercely at him.</p><p>“One more move and I stab her in the neck,” Halliwell threatened. He pulled harder on her hair, which pulled against her chains, making Florence gasp for air. Each time she took a deep breath, she could feel the sharp point of the scissors on her skin. He was shielding his body with hers, meaning none of them could get a shot in.</p><p>“You won’t do that,” Rossi said. Florence looked at him with wide eyes, hoping that he didn’t say the wrong thing. “We know why you’re doing this. We know about your sister. You’ve already messed it up once with Florence. You ruined her face. It won’t be the same if you don’t suffocate her like the others.”</p><p>Halliwell hesitated before dropping the scissors. Florence thought she was out of the woods, but instead, he wrapped a hand around her throat and tightened his grip.</p><p>“I’d say strangulation is close enough,” Halliwell replied. His hold grew even tighter, and Florence started to see black spots in her vision.</p><p>Florence closed her eyes and mustered what little strength and range of motion she had. She jerked her head harshly, which caught Halliwell off guard. What caught him more off guard was when she bit down on his hand.</p><p>He screamed and yanked her head to the side with the chain, cutting off her air supply. “You bitc—”</p><p>He didn’t finish as Hotch shot a bullet through his head. Rossi and Morgan ran to his body to make sure he was dead while Hotch ran to Florence, Prentiss soon following. Prentiss unchained her arms while Hotch removed the chain from around her neck. Her body fell as soon as she was freed, but he caught her.</p><p>“Boy, am I hap—” Florence cut herself off with a slew of violent coughs. “—py to see you, H - Hopscotch.”</p><p>She leaned her head against his chest weakly as he carried her out of the place she had been kept in.</p><p>“Florence, keep your eyes open,” Hotch ordered when he saw her drifting off.</p><p>Her eyes fluttered, but she didn’t have it in her to open them. “Kn - knew you’d save me.”</p><p>“Look at me, Florence. We’re almost to the ambulance. Open your eyes.”</p><p>“Tired,” she mumbled before going into a coughing fit again.</p><p>Hotch cursed as she went limp in his arms just as he reached the EMTs. They quickly got her on the gurney and checked her vitals. He didn’t even think before hopping in to ride with her to the hospital. Prentiss nodded to Hotch, letting him know that they’d close up the crime scene and then come to the hospital later.</p><p>With the ambulance flying through the traffic, Hotch had nothing to do but worry and watch as they tried to keep Florence alive.</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>Florence felt a lot better the next time she woke up, but definitely like shit. Whatever drugs they had pumping through the IV that she could feel in her hand likely was what was stopping her from feeling most of the pain. When she finally felt like opening her eyes, she couldn’t help but weakly smile.</p><p>The entire team had crammed into her small hospital room. Morgan, Garcia, Reid, and JJ were all asleep on the floor and leaning against each other and the wall. Prentiss was sitting in one of the chairs, but her body was laying across the end of the bed as she slept. Hotch and Rossi took up the other two chairs which were to the right of her head. There were also lots of stuffed animals and balloons.</p><p>She glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was only eleven in the morning. They must have been exhausted for them to all be sleeping, and that made her reconsider waking them up. But Florence was thirsty and though tired, very bored. She wiggled her leg, and the motion was enough to wake up Prentiss. She was disoriented for a moment before she looked at Florence and grinned.</p><p>“Hey there, Kiddo. Guys, she’s up.”</p><p>Slowly, they each woke up and crowded around her bed. They all looked tired, and their eyes were red from crying, but they smiled at her nonetheless.</p><p>“Oh, Cutie Pie, I am so glad you are okay,” Garcia said, taking her hand and kissing it. “How do you feel?”</p><p>Florence opened her mouth to talk, but ended up coughing. Prentiss handed her a cup of water, which helped a little.</p><p>“Like shit,” she replied. Then she frowned. Talking hurt a lot and her voice was hoarse and scratchy.</p><p>“You shouldn’t be talking,” JJ stated. “They said you have a lot of damage to your trachea and esophagus.”</p><p>Florence nodded in understanding.</p><p>“A silent Ren? I have no idea what that world is gonna look like,” Morgan teased, earning a playful glare from her.</p><p>“Your other injuries include several cuts and bruises, a busted lip, two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and your left arm is broken. They’ll put a cast on it in a few days when the swelling goes down,” Reid listed off. “You lost a lot of blood and have a concussion, so you’ll likely feel lightheaded for some time.”</p><p>Florence swallowed thickly and sat up with assistance from Garcia. She opened her mouth to talk, but stopped as soon as she felt the strain in her throat. She rolled her eyes in annoyance and pouted as she rubbed her sore throat.</p><p>“Know how you’re always saying that you think people with eyebrow scars look cool?” Prentiss said. “Well, on the bright side, you’re gonna look pretty badass.”</p><p>Florence narrowed her eyes and gently touched her left eyebrow. She was met with a thick bandaged covering it. She sighed and looked down at her lap. Then she looked around the room and held her hand up to her ear like a cellphone. Garcia started to dig through her purse before handing hers to her.</p><p>“Yours got broken but we’ll get you a new one as soon as you go home.”</p><p>No one said anything else as she opened up the camera to examine her face. She had a busted lip and a few small cuts, which were covered up. Most of her neck was bandaged in white gauze, but peeking out the top of it were dark bruises in the shape of a hand. She knew without looking that the rest of her body looked as horrible as it felt and just as bandaged and bruised as her face. She sighed again and pulled up the notes app to type out a question.</p><p>
  <em>What happened?</em>
</p><p>The team shared a look before Prentiss spoke up. “Sweetie, what all do you remember?”</p><p>
  <em>Being in that place. How long was I there?</em>
</p><p>“It’s Monday,” Reid told her. “You were there for three days.”</p><p>“We were already on a plane to New York when we got the call that you were taken,” JJ said, frowning. “Your friends immediately knew something was wrong.”</p><p>“We didn’t stop til we found you,” Morgan told her. “Don’t ever scare us like that again, Sunshine.”</p><p><em>I’ll try</em>, she typed out. <em>Where there any other girls before me?</em></p><p>“Maybe we should wait until you’re better to discuss the details of the case,” Rossi said. Everyone else on the team seemingly agreed, so Florence dropped it.</p><p>Then a nurse came into the room and saw that she was awake. Her name was Megan and she quickly ushered everyone out of the room so that she could check Florence’s vitals and bandages. She stayed silent through it all and looked away, not wanting to see the damage.</p><p>Because of Florence’s concussion, Megan decided that she could only have one visitor at a time. She didn’t need to be surrounded by a lot of people talking. Everyone was anxiously waiting outside when Megan left the room. She quickly explained the visitation policy, which annoyed most of them, but they understood.</p><p>“She asked for a… hopscotch?”</p><p>Rossi chuckled and pat Hotch on the back, who headed back inside while Megan went to inform the doctor of her progress. Florence greeted him with a sad smile as he took a seat next to her. She thought he looked exhausted and absolutely miserable, and it made her feel bad.</p><p>Before he could even think of anything to say, Florence was opening her mouth, wincing as she prepared to speak. “I’m… sorry.”</p><p>Hotch looked at her, truly baffled. “What on Earth could you possibly be apologizing for?” he asked.</p><p>“That video. Wasn’t… fair of me,” she croaked out. “If I died, the last… thing you heard was me… screaming your name—” Florence cut herself off and held her throat, which was throbbing.</p><p>Hotch’s eyes watered as he watched her struggle to talk. “Florence, you were scared and he was torturing you. It was only instinct to call out for someone that you love and trust to protect you. I’m only sorry that I couldn’t find you in time.”</p><p>Hotch put his head in his hands. Florence used her good arm to reach out and grab his wrist. “I’m… alive because of you.”</p><p>
  <strong>|||</strong>
</p><p>The team had stayed the entire day and night in the hospital — none of them wanted to go to the hotel and leave Florence. They took turns spending time in her room. On Tuesday morning, they gave Jess and Chandler a chance to see her. While they were apologizing at length about losing her, Doctor Barnes was filling the team in about her condition.</p><p>“We should be able to get the cast on her arm later today,” he stated, glancing at his chart. “The swelling has gone down greatly.”</p><p>“She told me to ask for a blue one,” Garcia told him.</p><p>“Not pink?” JJ asked, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>Garcia frowned and looked down at her lap. Morgan took her hand in a comforting manner. “She uh, said she doesn’t really like pink anymore.” No one said anything, knowing why she had decided to change her favorite color.</p><p>Doctor Barnes cleared his throat and continued on. “Someone will need to take her prescriptions and get them filled.”</p><p>“I’ll cover them,” Rossi offered.</p><p>“It’ll be several weeks before I recommend she return to work. And once she’s discharged, she’ll need to be under someone’s care for the first week. Does she have any relatives that can come pick her up?”</p><p>“You can sign her out to me. One of us will stay with her,” Hotch informed. It was a unanimous agreement that they would all help take care of Florence once she came home. They all had leave that they could take. They would switch shifts and stay in Florence’s spare bedroom.</p><p>“When do you think she’ll be able to leave?” JJ asked.</p><p>“Perhaps by tomorrow evening. I’ll set up an appointment with a doctor in Quantico to have her stitches removed in two weeks, and the cast comes off in eight weeks. Encourage her to stay off her feet. She lost a lot of blood and it’s just going to be a long time before she is back to normal.”</p><p>“Thank you, Doctor Barnes,” Rossi said, nodding. “Anything else?”</p><p>He paused for a moment and sighed. “In your line of work, I’m sure you all know very well how traumatic this has been for someone so young. She woke up screaming several times last night, which of course is bad for her throat damages. If she’s alright with it, I’d recommend she sees a therapist or at least talk with someone who has been through a similar situation once her more severe injuries are healed.”</p><p>They all knew that the mental recovery would be just as hard, if not more difficult than the physical.</p><p>“The Bureau offers counseling services to all of its agents,” Morgan told him. “We’ll all keep an eye on her and let her know that it could help to talk to someone.”</p><p>“Good,” Doctor Barnes said. “I’d also appreciate it if any of you could get her to stop trying to talk for the next two days. Florence is very stubborn and she doesn’t seem to take mine or any of the nurses’ warnings about it very seriously.”</p><p>“We got her the whiteboard,” Garcia said, frowning. “She just hates how long it takes for her to write things down.”</p><p>“Well, I’m sure she’d also hate permanent damage to her voice,” he said, adjusting his glasses. He glanced through her chart one more time. “I believe that’s all for now. I’ll be back in the afternoon to check on her and determine whether she can get her cast or not.”</p><p>Each of them thanked Doctor Barnes several times before he went to attend to other patients. Eventually, Jess and Chandler finished their time with Florence and left the hospital. They told them that she was sleeping, so they all remained in the waiting room. They took turns joking about ways to get Florence to stop talking. Garcia suggested duct tape, but Hotch was sure she’d keep trying to talk even with it on her mouth.</p><p>After a few minutes, Prentiss got a phone call from an unknown number. Rossi was the first to notice her frowning at her phone.</p><p>“Who is it?”</p><p>“No idea,” she said, shrugging before answering. “Hello? Who is this?” After a few seconds, her eyes grew wide. “Oh.”</p><p>“What?” Reid asked.</p><p>“It’s Reggie. Ren must’ve given him my number for emergencies,” she muttered while putting him on speaker. “Reggie, Florence’s phone is broken. That’s why you haven’t been able to get a hold of her.”</p><p>“Is she okay?” he asked, his voice sounding very high pitched. “W - we’re at Julie’s house and her dad has the news on and they’re talking ab - about this guy and then they said that - they said that he had kidnapped and killed a bunch of girls. Then they put up Ren’s picture and said - they said she had been taken but then you guys found her. They didn’t say anything about h - how she is. She’s okay, right? There’s this clip of her being carried out of the house and she’s covered in blood. Oh <em>god</em>, please tell me she’s okay.”</p><p>As the adults listened to him go on, they realized he was crying.</p><p>“I can't believe we didn’t think to tell him,” Garcia whispered to Morgan guiltily.</p><p>Morgan scoffed and shrugged. “I mean, I don’t even think it’s that serious. Have they even said I love you?” Garcia playfully rolled her eyes and shoved him.</p><p>“Reggie, this is Hotch. Florence is safe. She’s in the hospital with very extensive injuries,” he explained. “They are planning on releasing her tomorrow, and then we’ll be on our way back to Virginia.”</p><p>Reggie sighed in relief. “She’s alright. Guys, they said she’s okay.” He must have been talking to other people instead of them on the phone. He sniffled softly before addressing them. “Thank god. Uh, can I talk to her, please?”</p><p>“I’m sorry kid,” Prentiss said, frowning. “She’s had a lot of damage to her throat. They don’t want her talking for another day or two.”</p><p>“Oh,” he said, his tone deflating.</p><p>“We’ll keep you updated, Reggie,” Garcia told him. “If anything changes, I'll call you. We’ll let you know when she’s out of the hospital, and if she feels up to it when she gets back home, you can come to visit. And I’ll tell her that you called and are worried about her.”</p><p>Reggie sniffed again. They couldn’t see him but clearly, he was still upset over the whole thing. They were sure not being able to hear her voice made it even worse. “Okay. Thank you. A - and thank you for finding her.”</p><p>“Of course,” Prentiss said. “And thank you for calling to check on her.”</p><p>Once he hung up, JJ sighed. “I kind of feel bad that none of us thought to call him. Imagine finding out your girlfriend got kidnapped by a serial killer and you had to find out from the news. And once you find out she’s in the hospital, you still can’t talk to her. I bet he’s just a mess.”</p><p>“He’s with his friends,” Rossi said. “Maybe they’ll take his mind off of it.”</p><p>“I don’t know. I met them once,” Garcia said. “They’re an emotional bunch, and that drummer sure likes to cry.”</p><p>
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</p><p>Florence felt pure joy when she was discharged from the hospital. As soon as it was allowed, JJ helped her change into a loose shirt and pair of pajama pants so that nothing was tight around her bandages. Morgan pushed her in a wheelchair out of the building and to the SUV. Hotch, Morgan, and Garcia would be driving back with her while the others took the jet back.</p><p>She was sporting a brand new light blue cast, which was annoying considering that it hadn’t even been that long since the last time she broke her arm. The whole team had signed it, as well as the nurses that had helped her the last few days. This time, she was under strict instructions from Morgan not to go bonking any serial killers over the head with it.</p><p>While they drove, the rest of the team went to her apartment to clean it and get it ready for her to come home. Reid had set up a station next to her bed with all of her medicines and a chart of what times she would need to take it. JJ displayed all her balloons and stuffed animals they had gotten her in the gift shop. Prentiss had washed and changed out her sheets to make sure the bed would be comfy. Rossi was in her kitchen and making a fresh batch of linguine, knowing it would be soft enough for Florence to eat and not irritate her throat — the whole team would be staying over for dinner of course. Jessica was going to even bring Jack over later because Florence wanted to see him.</p><p>The first thing Florence did when she got back home was shower. She had been in a hospital bed for days and felt super gross. She was in far too much pain to be embarrassed when she needed Garcia’s help. After the shower and changing into a comfy t-shirt and some shorts, Florence was exhausted. She didn’t have plans to get out of her bed until it was time to eat. JJ helped her prop up on the pillows. She also helped Florence pull her hair up in a scrunchie — it was difficult with her cast, and it also was too short now to make a full ponytail much to her annoyance. Then Florence grabbed the stuffed Scrappy-Doo on her bed to hold.</p><p>They all smiled at her, happy that she was back home and safe. Seeing her in that hospital bed had been horrible, but she already looked better than she had a few days ago.</p><p>“Do you want to go to sleep?” Prentiss asked, sitting on the end of her bed. “Or I can put on a movie for you.”</p><p>“Hmm, Barbie and the Twelve Dancing Princesses,” she said, smiling softly. Florence was allowed to talk again, but only in small amounts. And if she felt any discomfort, she was supposed to stop.</p><p>Once the movie was put on, they all dispersed around Florence’s apartment. Garcia and Morgan stayed back in her room in case she needed anything — but also to watch the movie. They were only ten minutes in before Garcia sat up.</p><p>“Oh, do you want me to call Reggie and tell him you’re home? Or are you too tired for him to come over?”</p><p>Florence nodded while squeezing Scrappy. “Yeah, I wanna see him.”</p><p>Garcia nudged Morgan, making sure he didn’t make an annoying comment about Florence’s boyfriend in his typical big brother fashion. She then left the room to call him so as to not disturb the movie.</p><p>Reggie had made it to Florence’s apartment in just under fifteen minutes, having slightly gone over the speed limit. He practically ran to her place, where he was greeted by the whole BAU team. Prentiss got off the couch to lead him back to her room. While she did, she went over Florence’s injuries.</p><p>“So, no hugging her tightly, and don’t kiss her. Her lip doesn’t need to get infected,” she instructed, while Reggie nodded in understanding. He was practically bouncing, ready to just see Florence safe and alive with his own eyes. “And don’t let how she looks freak you out.”</p><p>“I - I don’t care how she looks,” he stuttered out.</p><p>Prentiss chuckled and shook her head. “No, I know. I mean, she’s really bruised up and covered in a lot of bandages. Don’t let it worry you. Florence really is going to be okay. I know you’ve been worried about that since you couldn’t talk with her over the phone.”</p><p>When Reggie stepped through the door, Florence’s face lit up — which the adults thought was very adorable. Garcia and Morgan got off her bed while Reggie ran around to Florence’s side. He crouched down next to her and held her hand that wasn’t in a cast.</p><p>“Hi,” Florence said in her scratchy tone.</p><p>“H - hi,” Reggie said back, his eyes already starting to tear up. He reached his other hand up and brushed his thumb across her cheek. “You’re okay. I’m so glad you’re okay. God, I - I was so <em>scared</em> and I didn’t know what was happening to you. I do - don’t know what I’d done if I’d lost you. I love you so much and I can’t even - even <em>think</em> about — Just, thank god you’re okay.”</p><p>He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and Florence’s eyes fluttered shut. A soft smile graced her face and she tilted her head.</p><p>“You love me?”</p><p>Reggie looked down at her and brushed her cheek again. “I - I know I say a lot of stupid things without thinking them through, but that wasn’t one of them. I love you Florence.”</p><p>Florence felt like her heart was about to jump out of her chest, and this time it wasn’t out of fear that she would be murdered. She smiled and leaned into his hand on her cheek. “I love you too.”</p><p>“For reals?” he asked, grinning brightly.</p><p>Florence nodded. “Yeah. I think I’d even pick you over Derek the shoe cobbler in Barbie in the Twelve Dancing Princesses.”</p><p>Reggie laughed lightly and kissed the top of her head again. “I’d kiss you if I wasn’t absolutely terrified by Agent Prentiss.”</p><p>The two nineteen-year-olds seem to be in their own little bubble, completely ignoring the group of FBI agents standing in the door.</p><p>“Should we maybe give them some privacy?” Prentiss asked, though she made no move to leave. None of them did.</p><p>“That was the most adorable thing in the world,” Garcia whispered, leaning against Morgan. “Derek, how can you not love them together?”</p><p>“Eh,” he said, shrugging. He didn’t want to admit out loud that it was kind of cute to watch. “And no way am I leaving them alone right after they said I love you for the first time. I know what that means.”</p><p>Prentiss couldn’t help but laugh. “Morgan, she has two broken ribs and a concussion. They’re not gonna do anything except cuddle and watch a Barbie movie.”</p><p>“Don’t care,” he muttered.</p><p>Garcia snorted and shared a look with Prentiss. They both put a hand on Morgan and started shoving him towards the living room. He dragged his feet, but eventually, he threw himself down on the couch and sighed.</p><p>“What put you in a bad mood?” Rossi asked him, smiling in amusement.</p><p>“Reggie told Florence that he loved her,” Garcia said, smiling dreamily. “And she loves him back!”</p><p>“Get used to him, Morgan. I did. He isn’t going anywhere,” Hotch told him, smirking.</p><p>Morgan made a face and rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”</p><p>They left Florence and Reggie alone for the duration of the Barbie movie. Now that she was safe and at home, they could take the time to relax. After a while, there was a knock on the door.</p><p>“That should be Jessica with Jack,” Hotch said, getting up to let them in.</p><p>“Daddy!” Jack exclaimed, jumping into his arms as soon as he saw them.</p><p>“Hey, Buddy,” Hotch said, smiling as he hugged his son. Then he looked at Jessica. “Thank you for bringing him. Would you like to stay for dinner?”</p><p>“Thanks for the offer, but I’m gonna head home,” she said, smiling. Then she showed off a big box in her hands, that was wrapped in shiny gold wrapping paper. “The front desk attendant said that this was dropped off for Florence. Think someone sent her a gift.”</p><p>Everyone looked at the return address and grinned.</p><p>“Jack, do you wanna go see Florence and give her this gift?” Hotch asked him, and he nodded. “Remember though that she’s a little hurt, so you can’t hug her tight like you normally do.”</p><p>Jack nodded in understanding. Jessica handed the present off to Garcia before bidding them goodbye. Since it was almost time for dinner, the whole team went back to get Florence and also watch her open the gift. Like Prentiss had said, Morgan had nothing to worry about leaving Florence and Reggie alone. He had crawled in her bed and she was cuddled into his side as they watched the end of the movie. When she saw Jack though, she paused it and grinned at him.</p><p>“Hey, Jack Attack,” she greeted brightly.</p><p>“Hi, Ren,” he said, sticking out his hand to wave at her from his spot in Hotch’s arms.</p><p>“Someone sent you a very big box,” Garcia said, coming over and placing it on the bed. Florence and Reggie scooted apart so it could sit in between them. “I’m very nosy and would like to see what you got.”</p><p>Florence rolled her eyes and tore into the present. Reggie balled up the wrapping paper and threw it in the corner while she took the lid off. She stared at the contents, a little confused. While she grabbed the card on top, Reggie started pulling everything out. It seemed to be a lot of Hamilton merchandise — a sweatshirt, several t-shirts, a notebook, some jewelry like what’s worn in the show, and even the soundtrack on vinyl. A lot of it was signed by cast members as well.</p><p>Florence read over all the little notes on the card, several of which made jokes about Lin Manuel Miranda being a murderer. She dropped the card in her lap and stared up at the team.</p><p>“Did… did you accuse Lin Manuel Miranda of <em>murder </em>for me?”</p><p>“Not… technically,” Morgan said, scoffing.</p><p>Garcia winced. “It was <em>lightly</em> implied for a few minutes there.”</p>
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<a name="section0029"><h2>29. SUPERVISION</h2></a>
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    <p>
  <strong>“i watch tiktoks”</strong>
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<p>For Florence’s first night home, Garcia and Morgan tag-teamed her for the night. Once everyone else had gone home, they helped her get ready for bed. While she had been happy to be surrounded by the people she loved, Florence was exhausted. </p>
<p>Garcia changed out her bandages, doing her best not to make a disgusted face when she saw the wounds — Florence had never actually looked at them, so she didn’t want to give away how bad they were. Then, Morgan helped her get back into her bed while Garcia fixed all the medicines she needed to take. She also laid out the second dose that they’d have to wake up in six hours to give to her again. </p>
<p>“Do you want me to stay in here until you go to sleep?” Garcia asked, brushing some of her hair back.</p>
<p>Florence shook her head and yawned. The pain medicine was keeping her sleepy. “I’m alright. Thank you both for staying.”</p>
<p>“No problem, Sunshine,” Morgan said, leaning against the door frame. “We’ll both be down the hall and will hear if you need anything.”</p>
<p>“I am so glad we have you back, Sweetie,” Garcia said, kissing her forehead. “Goodnight.”</p>
<p>“Night,” Florence muttered tiredly. </p>
<p>Morgan flicked the lights off, and then he and Garcia went to sit in Florence’s living room. It was still a little early for them to go to bed. They stayed up for another two hours, just watching tv and talking. Eventually, though, Garcia got up to go to sleep in the guestroom — Morgan had oh so kindly offered to take the couch.</p>
<p>“You know, I thought that with all that pain medicine, she’d be knocked out so much that she wouldn’t snore,” Morgan said, grinning. “But no. It sounds like there’s an abominable snowman loose in her room.” </p>
<p>“At least you’re farther from the sound than me,” Garcia said, chuckling. “I should’ve brought some earplugs.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well—”</p>
<p>Morgan stopped, hearing Florence’s snores suddenly cut off and turn into a scream.</p>
<p>“No! NO, PLEASE! HELP!”</p>
<p>Morgan was on his feet in a second and running back to her bedroom, with Garcia quickly following. He rushed into the room and saw Florence thrashing around in her bed, trying to fight off the danger in her dream. Her screams were like the ones from the video Hallowell had sent of her. </p>
<p>Morgan ran over and held her arms down to keep her from hurting herself more. “Florence. Baby Girl, I need you to wake up,” he said in a calm voice. </p>
<p>It took several more moments for Florence to snap awake, yelling in alarm as she did. She tried to pull away from Morgan’s hold, still thinking she was in her dream. Garcia quickly turned on the lamp in the corner so that Florence could see them. Florence finally saw that it was Morgan holding her and not Halliwell and she froze.</p>
<p>“You’re okay. You’re safe,” he told her. “Take a deep breath with me.”</p>
<p>They sat there for a few moments, Florence just copied Morgan’s breathing trying to get her own under control. When she calmed down, she threw her arms around Morgan to hug him tightly. He rubbed her back and shared a concerned look with Garcia over her shoulder. </p>
<p>Morgan slowly got Florence wack under the covers. “Do you want one of us to stay with you?”</p>
<p>“Please,” Florence croaked out. Her throat was throbbing from screaming so hard. Before Morgan could even ask which one of them she preferred, Florence had grabbed his hand tightly and shoved her head in his chest.</p>
<p>“I’m right here, Sunshine,” he whispered, leaning against her headboard.</p>
<p>Neither he nor Garcia said anything until they heard Florence start snoring again.</p>
<p>“Are you okay to stay in here all night?” Garcia asked.</p>
<p>“Of course,” he whispered. He sighed and looked down at Florence, who looked peaceful except for the dried tear stains on her cheeks, and frowned. “We never have to see this part. We save the victims and get to go home. It’s easy to forget that the fight isn’t over for them. Halliwell may be dead, but a part of Florence is still trapped with him.”</p>
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<p>Florence managed to sleep through the rest of the night without any more fits of screaming. Garcia woke Morgan up in the morning so that he could go to work while she stayed with Florence for the day. The team agreed that Garcia should get her day out of the way so that if a case came up, they would have at least one of their technical analysts. </p>
<p>She had a whole day planned — well, as much as she could have planned when the only places Florence went were her bed, the bathroom, or the recliner in the living room. Florence was delighted to wake up to pancakes. They were heart-shaped for the most part, minus a few that were just misshapen blobs. She hadn’t felt great when she woke up, but once she had the food on her stomach, she could take her medicine.</p>
<p>Then they moved to the living room, where Garcia had a long list of early 2000s rom-coms for them to watch. They watched movies until they were hungry for lunch. After that, Florence asked for help painting her nails blue so that they’d match her cast. She had also declared that blue was going to be her new favorite color.</p>
<p>It was a wonderfully non-stressful day off of work for Garcia, and she got to be with Florence which made her even happier. </p>
<p>“So,” Garcia said in a mischievous tone.</p>
<p>Florence looked at her warily with a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. “What?” she mumbled, raising an eyebrow. </p>
<p>“Do you wanna talk about the thing?”</p>
<p>“What thing?” Florence paled, not ready to talk about what had happened in New York.</p>
<p>“Um, the totally adorbs <em>I love you</em> thing with Reggie last night,” Garcia said, grinning. “It’s one of the big relationship milestones!”</p>
<p>“There are milestones?” Florence asked, finishing off her ice cream. She was relieved, but still didn’t want Garcia prying into her relationship. </p>
<p>“Yes! First date, first kiss, first I love you,” Garcia listed off. Then she smirked. “<em> Other </em>first things. Which, I assume you haven't done because I would like to think you’d tell me about that as the cool older sister figure in your life.”</p>
<p>Florence’s cheeks heated up and she rolled her eyes. “Not that it’s any of your concern — like, it is <em>so </em>not your business — but no, we have not. And I’d rather not have this talk.”</p>
<p>“But it’s only natural that it follows after the first I love you,” Garcia told her. “Just know you can come to me if you have any questions before—”</p>
<p>“I have a concussion, a broken arm, and two broken ribs. I can’t even walk up a flight of stairs without feeling like I’m dying right now. I can guarantee that fucking Reggie is the last thing on my mind right now,” Florence declared loudly. God, she was glad that no one else on the team was there to witness it. “And it’s probably not on his mind either.”</p>
<p>Garcia chuckled. “Oh, you naive baby. It’s on every boy’s mind. Why do you think Derek doesn’t like him? It’s not Reggie’s fault. He just knows what he was like at his age.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure that Der came out of the womb as a whore, so forgive me for not taking him seriously,” Florence muttered, laughing. </p>
<p>Garcia giggled, knowing she was probably going to tell Morgan about that comment. “I just want to make sure that you know it doesn’t exactly happen like it does in Lord of the Rings fanfiction,” she said, only partly joking.</p>
<p>Florence groaned and threw her head back. The movement kind of hurt her neck, but she didn’t want Garcia to worry. “I want you to know that I hate this conversation, and if I were physically capable, I’d run away and lock myself in my room to get away from it.”</p>
<p>“Ah, that’s how I know the talk is working. So…”</p>
<p>It felt like Garcia had been talking to her about her own personal sex life for hours when really it had only been about thirty minutes. It was horrible, and no matter how deep Florence shoved her head into a throw pillow, she could still hear. She certainly wouldn’t be looking Kevin in the eye anytime soon. There was no way to unhear all the freaky things that he and Garcia were into. She could only hope that her pain medicine-induced mind would let her forget it soon. </p>
<p>Rossi arrived to relieve Garcia and was greeted with quite a sight. Florence had her hands covering her ears and she had her face shoved in a pillow while Garcia was describing something a bit too obscene even for him. </p>
<p>“What did you do to her?” Rossi asked, crossing his arms. “Penelope, you broke her. That was the opposite of all our instructions.”</p>
<p>Once Garcia left, Florence uncovered her ears. She was thankful that Rossi had arrived to swap with her. Her time with him was much calmer, with very little excitement. There had been a bit of a squabble when he started making dinner for her though. </p>
<p>“Florence, where’s your spice rack?” he asked, going through all her cabinets. When he had cooked dinner the night she had returned from the hospital, he had brought all his ingredients from home. </p>
<p>“Oh, I don’t have any spices,” she called, not looking away from the TV, which was playing How I Met Your Mother. </p>
<p>Rossi stopped stirring the pot of rice he had started to cook and narrowed his eyes at her. “What do you mean you don’t have any spices? You can’t cook without spices."</p>
<p>“One, bold of you to assume that I cook,” Florence muttered, chuckling. “And two, I don’t like spicy food.”</p>
<p>“Not all spices are <em>spicy</em>,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment. </p>
<p>“Then they shouldn’t call them spices. It’s very misleading.”</p>
<p>“I’m calling the grocery store and having some delivered because this is ridiculous,” Rossi muttered. “I can’t cook under these conditions.”</p>
<p>“Hey, Ro-Ro, I’ve got plenty of butter and salt. Is butter a spice?” she asked, just messing with him now. </p>
<p>He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m gonna pretend like you didn’t ask that.”</p>
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<p>The rest of Rossi’s stay was rather uneventful. Though Florence had woken up in the middle of the night screaming again — Morgan had made sure to warn the entire team about it when he got to work. It was a good thing they were all well-practiced at calming people down when they were scared.</p>
<p>The next team member to watch over her was JJ, who went into her mother-mode and tried to clean up the apartment. It had started to get messy with so many people coming and going.</p>
<p>“Ren, when was the last time you cleaned your shower?” JJ asked. She was about to grab a shower but noticed that the tiles on the wall looked a little dingy. </p>
<p>“You don’t clean a shower, JJ,” Florence said, scoffing. “It cleans itself when you use it. <em>Duh</em>.”</p>
<p>JJ rubbed her forehead and sighed. “You’ve lived here for almost two years and never cleaned the shower? Where do you keep your bleach?”</p>
<p>“Under the kitchen sink,” she muttered while sipping a Capri Sun. </p>
<p>“Do you ever do any kind of maintenance on this place?” JJ asked, which Florence shook her head. JJ shook her own head and smiled. “Well, I think I know what Morgan is doing on his day.”</p>
<p>And JJ was correct. She had reported to him all the issues she could find in Florence’s apartment. When he arrived to switch shifts, he had a toolbox with him and a few other supplies. He fixed just about everything — her squeaky bedroom door, a crooked cabinet, and the water pressure in the shower.</p>
<p>“You’ve seriously never even changed the air filter?” he asked. He had just swapped the used one out for a new one and he was holding up the gross one. “Florence, you have asthma. All you have to do is call the landlord and ask him to do all this stuff.”</p>
<p>“But calling people makes me uncomfy,” Florence whined. </p>
<p>“So you just live like this because you don’t wanna be <em>uncomfy </em>?” he asked, putting air quotes around the word uncomfy. Then he scoffed and shook his head. “How do you even get through the day?”</p>
<p>“That’s what I have you for,” she said, grinning. “Also, I’ve been instructed by Garcia to take pictures if you have to take your shirt off to fix something.”</p>
<p>Reid was the one to relieve Morgan, who wished him luck. He had brought along his travel chess set, figuring that it was a good time to teach Florence more about it. Of course, he beat her every single time, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun for the both of them. </p>
<p>“You know, I think you’re a little better at this when you’re on the pain medication,” Reid said, teasing her. </p>
<p>“That’s surprising. I extra don’t think about my moves on this stuff,” she admitted, grinning. She decided on moving one of her few pawns left forward, but then Reid immediately took it out with his bishop.</p>
<p>“You’re not - I mean,” Reid paused and frowned, taking a minute to think over his words. “You’re not having any kind of trouble with your medicines, are you? It’s just that it’s highly addictive. You’re not wanting to take more than you’re supposed to, right?”</p>
<p>Florence shook her head and chewed on her lip. “Been taking everything right on time according to that schedule you made.”</p>
<p>“That’s good,” he mumbled, moving one of his knights. “You um, you seemed to calm down a little quicker last night.”</p>
<p>Florence glanced up at him before staring back at the board. He was referring to her nightmares, which she had woken up screaming from every night since. It had happened twice the night that JJ stayed with her. Last night, it didn’t take too long for her to realize that she wasn’t still there in that room, and instead was safe in her apartment with Reid. </p>
<p>“Yeah, uh, s - sorry you had to wake up to deal with that,” she mumbled.</p>
<p>Reid frowned, before moving to sit next to her on the couch. “Florence, don’t ever apologize for that. What you went through was horrible, and your mind is still trying to process that it’s over.”</p>
<p>“It just… I feel so stupid. I mean, the things you guys see and go through on all of these cases… I feel like I shouldn’t be scared now that it’s over,” she said, sniffing. No, Florence didn’t want to talk or think about it, and that was probably the most any of them would get out of her for the time being. </p>
<p>“Did you know that just a little over a year before you came to the BAU, I got kidnapped by the unsub we were hunting?” Reid asked her. </p>
<p>Florence looked up at him with wide eyes. “What? No, w - what happened?”</p>
<p>“Tobias Hankel had dissociative identity disorder, which made it difficult for us to decide if it was one unsub or a team. JJ and I went to his address, unaware of the danger, and he ended up taking me. He drugged me. I had nightmares every night for such a long time, and even now I still get them sometimes. After I was rescued, instead of talking to the team, I turned to the same drug he used on me.”</p>
<p>Florence’s eyes watered, having no idea that Reid had gone through something so horrible, and he seemed to have done it alone. “Oh, Spence.”</p>
<p>“I’m telling you because I want you to know that I understand how you feel. I never want you to feel like you’re weak or like something’s wrong with you because you’re still scared. And I don’t want you to make the same mistake that I did. Everyone on this team loves you, so never feel bad for relying on us.”</p>
<p>Florence hugged him tightly, well, as tightly as she could without hurting herself. “Does it get any better?”</p>
<p>“I don’t think we can ever really get over the things we’ve been through, but over time, it won’t be as bad. Maybe when you’re comfortable, you can try to talk to someone? A therapist or counselor maybe? Perhaps if I had talked to someone, I wouldn’t have turned down such a self-destructive path.”</p>
<p>“I wish I’d have known you then,” Florence mumbled. “I wouldn’t have let you go through that alone. You wouldn’t have been able to get rid of me.”</p>
<p>Reid smiled softly. “I wouldn’t have wanted to get rid of you.”</p>
<p>After Reid’s day was up, Prentiss took his place. When she came through the door, Florence eyed all the stuff in her arms. Aside from her go-bag, she also had a huge shopping bag from some beauty supply store.</p>
<p>“What’s that?” Florence asked as Prentiss set everything on the coffee table. </p>
<p>Prentiss grinned up at her. “Well, I’ve heard from the others how much you hate your hair now. I was a bit experimental with my hair in high school, so I thought we could have some fun.” </p>
<p>She pulled out some scissors as well as all the things necessary to bleach and dye her hair. Prentiss then held up a tube of blue hair dye.</p>
<p>“Want to show off your new favorite color?”</p>
<p>Florence grinned excitedly and made her way to her bathroom as quickly as she could — which admittedly wasn’t very fast. First, Prentiss evened out her choppy ends leftover from when Halliwell cut her hair off. Florence was frustrated that it was so short now, and she could only pull half of it up in a small ponytail. After cutting it, they talked about what Florence wanted. Instead of dying the ends like they had been when it was pink, she instead decided on two blue strands to frame her face.</p>
<p>“Ah. The e-girl look,” Prentiss had said, smirking.</p>
<p>“How do you even know what that is?” Florence asked, laughing.</p>
<p>“I watch TikToks.”</p>
<p>Florence was feeling much better at the end of the week. On the last day that she was required to have constant supervision, Hotch came over. Prentiss was in the back, getting her things ready to leave, so Florence got up and opened the door — she was still moving very slowly, but the fact that she could get up unassisted was great progress.</p>
<p>“Your hair,” was the first thing Hotch said when he saw her. </p>
<p>“Prentiss did it,” she said, smiling. “Makes me feel a little more like me again.” </p>
<p>Florence almost let Hotch in, but then she frowned. “Wait, Hopscotch, you shouldn’t be here. You don’t get a lot of days off. Y - you need to be with Jack, not taking care of me. A - ask Anderson to come. I haven’t seen him in so long. I miss him.”</p>
<p>Hotch smiled softly. Even after almost dying, she was thinking about the wellbeing of his son. “I actually agree with you, which is why I brought him.”</p>
<p>Jack then poked his head through the door as grinned widely up at Florence. “Daddy said we can have a sleepover!”</p>
<p>“A sleepover!” Florence said, excitedly. She wanted to crouch down and hug him, but that would no doubt kill her ribs. “What all do you wanna do for the sleepover?”</p>
<p>“I asked Daddy to bring Meet the Robinsons. Daddy, did you bring Meet the Robinsons?” Jack said, turning and tugging on Hotch’s pants.</p>
<p>“Yeah, Hopscotch. Did you bring Meet the Robinsons?” Florence asked, tugging on his shirt sleeve to annoy him. She had only been out of the office for a week, and Hotch had already started to miss her presence. </p>
<p>The trio spread out across Florence’s living room and popped in the movie. Of course, Jack ended up falling asleep before the big Goob reveal at the end. Hotch got him up, changed him into his pajamas, and put him to sleep in the guest room. Then he came back out and joined Florence. There were only a few minutes left to the movie, so he was surprised when she paused it. She glanced at him once before starting to scratch around the edge of her cast nervously.</p>
<p>“Um, I really am glad that you brought him because I don’t ever want you to miss out on time with Jack, especially after Haley,” she said quietly. “But I mean, it’s just… whenever I have the uh, the - I’m loud—”</p>
<p>“Jack’s a very heavy sleeper, Florence,” Hotch told her, knowing what she meant. “Sometimes I worry that he’d sleep through the fire alarm. If I need to come and wake you up, you won’t disturb him.”</p>
<p>Florence nodded to herself. “Okay. That’s good. Not the part about sleeping through a fire alarm though. You should work on that.”</p>
<p>“Florence, how are you doing?”</p>
<p>“I mean, I’m okay,” she said, shrugging. “I’m moving around better, and I’ll get my stitches out next week. My throat doesn’t hurt much anymore—”</p>
<p>“You know that’s not what I meant,” he interrupted. “You know, not only will you have to be medically cleared to come back to work, but there will be a psych eval that you'll be required to pass as well.”</p>
<p>Florence’s eyes widened, not having known that little tidbit of information. In all honesty, Florence hadn’t been left alone long enough to see how she was actually dealing with what had happened. The only time she had been alone was when she was asleep, and they all knew how that was going. The past week, she had been watching movies and playing games and purposefully trying to distract everyone from the fact that she wasn’t okay — that she wasn’t completely terrified. Of course, they were all profilers and knew it wasn’t true. After Hotch’s shift, they would all go back to work and she was worried that things would get even worse.</p>
<p>There was no telling what her mental state would look like in a month in a half.</p>
<p>Looks like she was about to use all her free time to become an expert in lying because there was no way she was staying away from the BAU longer than necessary. Hotch narrowed his eyes at her, seemingly understanding her thought process. </p>
<p>“You know, you always offer to listen if I ever need to talk to someone. I’d like to think you know that you can do the same with me,” he told her. “I can’t go back and undo what happened to you—”</p>
<p>“We’ve been over this, Hotch,” she said, sighing. “I am alive because of our team, and none of you should feel guilty about what happened. You have a huge problem with taking on massive amounts of unnecessary guilt.” </p>
<p>“And you have a problem with distracting others so that they don’t focus on how you’re actually feeling. You can make jokes and try to annoy me and play with Jack, but know that you’re not expected to bounce back and pretend that everything is fine. We will all be here for you as long as you need us.”</p>
<p>Florence had only really opened up to Reid, and that had been for no longer than two minutes. And she had hated how uncomfortable it was the entire time. However, this was Hotch. It was her Hopscotch, and if she could be honest with any of them, it would be him. But still, she didn’t want to tear down the wall she had put up in order to block everything out. </p>
<p>“Hotch, when I am comfortable talking about it, I will. I promise,” she said, sighing. “But not right now, please.”</p>
<p>“Alright,” he said, nodding. Before Florence could turn the movie back on, Hotch spoke again. “I know that you have a rather interesting eye for interior decorating, but why do you have a big plastic dog in your guest room? I mean, Jack’s a big fan, but it’s not something in a typical bedroom.”</p>
<p>Florence chuckled to herself. “Did you know that you can just walk out of an Old Navy with the dog and no one will stop you?”</p>
<p>Hotch sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead, trying to keep off the headache that would no doubt accompany the story he was about to hear. “Florence, did… did you steal the Old Navy dog?”</p>
<p>Florence sucked on her teeth. “<em>Technically</em>, Reg carried it out of the store, so he stole it.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. FIRST STEP</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i don't super love this chapter, which is probably why it took so long for me to write it. however, i felt like some more time needed to pass before ren goes back to the bau.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>“it’s one of those good white people songs”</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Physically, Florence healed from her kidnapping fairly well. Her bruises disappeared and her stitches were removed. The broken ribs didn’t cause much pain, and she had moved off the strong pain medication to regular Tylenol, which had eased Reid’s mind. There were two weeks left before she could return to work, and the only signs that Florence had even been taken were the doodle-covered cast and a bunch of scars that would never go away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence’s mental health, however, was a whole other story — and one that she was doing her best to hide from those around her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was waking up screaming just about every night, haunted by her nightmares. Well, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>nightmares</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but memories. Florence would never bring them up whenever the others visited her. She’d smile and joke and do her best to act normal, letting them think that she was getting a little bit better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, the BAU profilers saw right through it, but they let her get away with it, knowing she needed more time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reggie had been wonderfully understanding and attentive during all of it. He was almost always at Florence’s apartment with her, doing everything he could to help when not at his band rehearsal or their gigs. He did all his schoolwork over at her place too and did his best to dedicate the rest of his free time to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence’s happy facade had managed to fool Reggie for the first few days, which he was sad to admit. Unfortunately, he didn’t think he’d ever get the image out of his head of coming over with plans for a Star Wars marathon and instead found Florence mid-panic attack on the floor. Reggie had rushed to her side, but he had no idea what to do, so he had to call Morgan, who talked him through helping her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan would never admit it out loud, but seeing Reggie step up and take care of Florence made him like the boy a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little </span>
  </em>
  <span>bit more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The panic attacks had been a more recent development, but Florence hadn’t told anyone about them, not wanting anyone to worry more. They only ever happened when she was alone, and if Reggie hadn't wandered in while she was having one, she would have continued to try and deal with them on her own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Other than her check-ups with a doctor, Florence didn’t leave her apartment much. Of course, the first few weeks, she didn’t feel like it. Broken ribs sure made it difficult to move around. But eventually, JJ convinced Florence to accompany her, Will, and Henry to the park one afternoon. Reggie and Julie tagged along for fun. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, JJ wasn’t a profiler, but she took note of how Florence’s gaze would nervously flicker across the park, searching for danger. She’d probably never go back to being blissfully unaware of her surroundings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite feeling skittish the whole time, Florence did have fun. She had been spending her days watching TV, sleeping, and laying on her couch. It was nice to play with Henry and compete with Julie to see who could swing the highest on the swingset. Reggie ended up pushing Florence, which Julie claimed was cheating, but he argued that he was just evening the competition out considering her ribs had only just healed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been her first step towards normalcy, but there were still miles to go. But at least she wouldn’t have to go it alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were still two weeks before the doctor would clear Florence to return to work — and there was the meeting with the Bureau therapist that she was doing her best to not think about it. Everyone, Florence included, couldn’t wait until she could come back to the BAU. Florence’s absence was something that affected everyone on the team. They missed the jokes and the funny stories and the Capri Suns that were stashed in just about every room — Morgan had found and drunk the last one which had been stored away in Prentiss’ desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, the team — plus Anderson — was excited when they had a case-free Saturday and they made their way to Florence’s apartment. They just let themselves in with Morgan’s spare key. Since New York, people had been coming and going to check on Florence, and she was far too lazy to get up and get the door every time, so several keys for her apartment were handed out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they crowded in the door, they saw that they weren’t the only ones in the apartment. Luke was laying across the couch, strumming his guitar, Julie was sitting in the recliner, writing something down, and Alex was just laying on the floor, drinking a Capri Sun without the straw. But Florence and the fourth member of Sunset Curve were nowhere to be found. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, hey guys,” Julie greeted, smiling at the adults brightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that cake?” Luke asked, leaning up slightly to eye the big white box in Anderson’s hands. It looked a lot like the kind of box you’d get when buying a cake from the grocery store. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup!” Garcia told him. Luke perked up, no longer focused on his song and instead on the dessert. “So, where’s my little baby?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I suggested that we play Monopoly,” Alex told them. “So, Ren went to go look for it in her room and Reg went to go help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>was twenty minutes ago,” Luke added, smirking. “And Monopoly is sitting right over there on the bookshelf, so your little baby is probably letting Reggie suck on her neck like a vacuum cleaner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex snorted while Julie leaned over to hit Luke with her book, though she was also smiling. Derek scoffed before stalking off to Florence’s room. The three teenagers giggled, and the adults were even amused. After a few moments, they heard him yell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Boy, get your tongue out of her throat! She has broken ribs!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re all healed, Morgan!” they heard Florence shout back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Morgan was stomping back to the living room, with a red-faced Reggie and Florence following. Though she perked up when she saw the whole team crowded in her living room — and a little bit in her kitchen. It was a tight fit with so many people over at once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy Birthday!” Garcia exclaimed. Anderson held up the cake box, and the others waved their presents around. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, you guys didn’t have to do anything,” Florence said as Garcia hugged her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course we did,” Hotch told her, holding back a scoff. As if they wouldn’t make a big deal of her birthday, this time on the proper date.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. We’ve really been missing you at work,” Prentiss added, grinning. “Birthday or not, we probably would’ve come over anyways.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Although it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>a little crowded. Maybe we could go out to dinner,” Rossi offered. “My treat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooh, or that karaoke bar Garcia has been talking about,” JJ suggested, grinning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence smiled and turned to her friends. A night out with them and her team sounded great. “I mean, it’d kind of be unfair since the four of you are amazing singers, but do you wanna come?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of getting an immediate ‘yes’ as she expected, she was met with confused faces from the four musicians. Reggie’s mouth was hanging open and he was glancing between Florence, the cake, and the presents. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“B - but it’s not your birthday,” he muttered, tilting his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“April thirtieth. She’s twenty,” Reid stated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Reggie said, shaking his head quickly. “No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Because I met you on your birthday last year and that’s still three weeks away. I’d never forget the date that I met you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Prentiss covered her mouth to hide her smile while the others on the team all gave Florence baffled looks.“Ren, I cannot believe you did this again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence awkwardly rocked back and forth on her feet while giving Reggie an apologetic smile. “Well, uh, actually, last year, I never told the team when my birthday was. So, we ended up celebrating three weeks late. I guess I just forgot to mention that it wasn’t actually my birth date.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That makes so much sense,” Julie muttered, shaking her head. “I knew you weren’t a Gemini.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reggie looked absolutely distraught over the news. “I didn’t know when your birthday was? Oh my god.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke scoffed jokingly and leaned towards Morgan. “What kind of boyfriend doesn’t know his own girlfriend’s birthday?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan nodded. “Exactly. How can he live with himself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reggie paled as the two guys continued to tease him. “A - and your gift isn’t ready yet! I’m the worst boyfriend ever.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Reg,” she said softly while wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re a wonderful boyfriend. I just don’t make a big deal out of my birthday. And you don’t have to get me anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I do,” he insisted. “I love you so much, and you deserve to be celebrated.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence smiled and stood on her toes to peck his lips. Garcia and JJ aw’d softly at the cute moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, it was fun when we were making fun of him but now it’s gross,” Luke muttered, sighing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Agreed,” Morgan said, chuckling. “So, you kids coming for karaoke?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, but no showboating, Mariah Carey,” Anderson said, nodding to Julie, who grinned back. He had surprisingly gone to several Sunset Curve gigs and was becoming quite the fan much to everyone’s amusement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Karaoke sounds great. I call dibs on </span>
  <em>
    <span>Uptown Girl</span>
  </em>
  <span> by Billy Joel!” Alex declared, smiling proudly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia pouted as that was one of the songs on her list. “I know it’s not a duet, but what if we double-teamed that one?” she asked, giving him a hopeful look. Though Garcia adored Florence’s friends, she’d still fight Alex for Billy Joel if it came to it. Luckily, Alex agreed, knowing it would be fun to sing with the technical analyst. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reggie wrapped his arms around Florence from behind and leaned his chin on her shoulder. “We could sing </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t Go Breaking My Heart</span>
  </em>
  <span> and pretend like we’re in <em>Ella Enchanted</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence perked up and nodded enthusiastically. “Let me just go grab my shoes.” She dragged Reggie with her to go get her sneakers, and the only reason Morgan didn’t stop her from bringing him was that he knew she still didn’t want to be alone if she could help it — and they probably wouldn’t start making out again with eleven people in the apartment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, wait, I just remembered something,” Reid said, frowning. He looked troubled all of the sudden.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” JJ asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ren is a horrible singer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You guys didn’t know that?” Luke asked, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. We were all watching </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mamma Mia</span>
  </em>
  <span> the other day and it was a nightmare,” Alex added. “But she was having so much fun singing </span>
  <em>
    <span>Take a Chance on Me </span>
  </em>
  <span>while standing on the table, so we didn’t ask her to stop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” Hotch said, giving her the benefit of the doubt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>|||</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don't go breaking my heart.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I couldn't if I tried.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Honey, if I get restless.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Baby, you're not that kind.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was wrong. It is that bad,” Hotch said, covering his mouth to hide the amused grin on his face. He wanted to laugh at Florence but held back. The others, however, weren’t as courteous considering she wasn’t at the table to hear it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The large group had gotten to the karaoke place, and Florence grabbed Reggie and they got on stage. Reggie had a wonderful singing voice, and Anderson had leaned across the table to tell Luke and Julie to give him more parts in their songs. Florence, however, sounded like a strangled cat when she sang, and she got almost every note wrong. The girl was truly tone-deaf, but the pair of them were having a fun time singing together. Sure, for the first few moments on stage, she had nervously looked around the establishment for any kind of threat, but soon got into it. Florence belted the lyrics, just happy to be out and having fun, while Reggie grinned lovingly at her as he sang to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does she know she sounds like that?” Prentiss asked, laughing as Reggie twirled Florence under his arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, definitely,” Luke answered. “She’s not embarrassed by it or anything. And you gotta admit, this is fun to watch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve heard her brag about knowing all the words to </span>
  <em>
    <span>We Didn’t Start the Fire</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Garcia informed them. “I’ve suddenly never wanted to hear anything more in my life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Florence and Reggie finished their performance — they received a surprising amount of applause from all the drunk patrons — they made their way back to the table. Florence looked the happiest she had in days, which had been the goal. Before anyone else went up, they decided to let her open presents. Plus, the other customers deserved to get a few songs in before the group took over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan had gotten her a gift certificate to a tattoo shop that also did piercings because Florence had mentioned a few weeks ago that she wanted to get her helix pierced. JJ and Prentiss teamed up, giving her a polaroid camera and a scrapbook and everything she could need to decorate the pages with — Florence loved it because it reminded her of the gift from Bella Swan’s parents in </span>
  <em>
    <span>New Moon</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Reid got her a lava lamp that had made him think of her when he saw it in the store. Hotch gave her a big stuffed Iron Man that Jack had helped pick out. Rossi’s gift was a backpack just like the one she had, only in a light blue color instead of pink, which Florence really appreciated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>appreciate Garcia’s gift. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence had opened the bag excitedly and almost — key word </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost </span>
  </em>
  <span>— pulled the gift out for all to see before she realized just what it was. Her cheeks heated up and she quickly closed the bag, folding the top down several times. It was definitely not something that she wanted the others to see.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think you’re cute, but you’re not, PG,” Florence had muttered, narrowing her eyes at the technical analyst. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think Reg would be interested in knowing what you got,” Garcia said, acting innocent as she sipped on her drink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No he would not,” Florence said through her teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?” Reggie asked, oh so innocently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He reached for the bag but she quickly snatched it away. However, Morgan, as nosy as he was, couldn’t resist taking it from her. Florence faced him with a horrified look as he peeked inside. His jaw dropped and then he looked between Garcia, Reggie, and Florence. Then Morgan grinned, knowing he couldn’t pass up the chance to embarrass Florence — it didn’t matter that it was her birthday. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And why the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell </span>
  </em>
  <span>would Ren and Reggie be interested in lacy underwear and cherry-flavored condoms?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence groaned and slid down in her chair until she was almost completely under the table, while Reggie blushed and started to stutter — though he never did form a coherent sentence. The table had divided reactions. Prentiss, Rossi, Luke, and Anderson all quietly snickered. JJ, Reid, Alex, and Julie were overcome with secondhand embarrassment. Hotch had choked on his beer and was now glaring at Reggie and Garcia, mad at both of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Anderson, d - didn’t you say something about wanting to do a Nikki song?” Florence asked, trying to change the subject. “Now would be a great time for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Super Bass</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, no, I really don’t wanna miss this,” he said, grinning mischievously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing to miss. Garcia just thinks she’s funny, but she’s not,” she said, glaring at Garcia who was grinning. “You’re a sex fiend, Penelope Garcia. Also, my Spider-Man underwear is plenty sexy enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garcia winked playfully at her. “You’ll thank me one day, I’m sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, to make fun of her more, the technical analyst grabbed Morgan and forced him to sing </span>
  <em>
    <span>Let’s Talk About Sex</span>
  </em>
  <span> by Salt-N-Pepa, which made the situation even worse. But at least they got the group back to singing. Florence couldn’t even bring herself to look at Reggie until three songs later when Anderson started singing </span>
  <em>
    <span>Achy Breaky Heart.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am sorry about… </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she whispered, not wanting any more attention drawn to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It uh, it’s okay,” he said, clearing his throat. “I mean, at least she got you a gift. I don’t have anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but that’s my fault, Reg,” she said, smiling softly. “I already told you that you didn’t have to feel bad. Last year was the first birthday party I had since my parents died. I just don’t think about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I still feel bad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you had said earlier that my gift wasn’t ready, which implies you had a gift idea. You could just tell me what it is. It’d be like giving me the gift of knowing what my gift is,” she suggested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said, pouting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence leaned on his shoulder, pouting. “C’mon. Just tell me. Please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked down at her shyly. “I’m writing you a song.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” she asked, excitedly. “Babe, that’s so cute!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s almost done, but it’s gotta be perfect before I play it for you,” he explained. “Luke’s helping a little since he’s better at writing than I am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna love it no matter what,” Florence insisted. She paused to loudly cheer for JJ, who had replaced Anderson on stage, and started to sing <em>That Don’t Impress Me Much</em> by Shania Twain. “Also, I can’t believe you like me enough to write a whole song about me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can I say? You’re my moose.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence snorted and then grinned up at him. “I know my vocabulary is limited, but I’m pretty sure it’s <em>muse</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” he said, matching her grin. “I just wanted to see that goofy smile on your face.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence leaned up to kiss him, but they were interrupted by Luke groaning. “You guys are so cute that it’s nauseating.” Then he hopped out of his chair and pat Reggie on the back. “You and me are up next. <em>I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please don’t sing it with the Scottish accents,” Julie pleaded, already feeling the secondhand embarrassment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, they have to use the accents,” Alex stated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s right,” Reid agreed. “It makes the whole song.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Besides, most everyone in here is drunk. They won’t remember two dumb teenage boys singing one of the best songs in the world,” Florence added, shrugging. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One of the best? In the whole world? Really?” Rossi asked, frowning. At this point, he shouldn’t have been disappointed by Florence’s taste in things. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ren’s right,” Morgan said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “It’s one of those good white people songs. I could listen to it on a loop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha!” Florence said, sticking her tongue out at Rossi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not dumb,” Luke mumbled once Morgan and Florence had high-fived.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then he shared a look with Reggie, who shrugged sheepishly. “Yesterday I went to fix Ren a bowl of Lucky Charms and forgot to grab the bowl so I just poured cereal all over the counter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you thought the sign on the diner down the street meant a special type of sauce until Julie told you that AYCE means All You Can Eat,” Alex added, giving Luke a pointed look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke sighed and then nodded. “Yeah, okay. We’re a little dumb.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the realization that their intelligence was less than average, it didn’t deter the two boys from jumping on stage after JJ. The Scottish accents certainly covered up the fact that both of them were actually good singers. While everyone watched the performance, Prentiss and Anderson came over with a fresh round of drinks for the ones over twenty-one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan had tried to slip a drink to Florence, but Hotch wouldn’t allow it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Prentiss took the empty chair next to Florence, grinning as Luke and Reggie twirled around the stage like ballerinas while they sang. She nudged Florence, who was watching her boyfriend with a lovingly content look on her face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you having a good birthday?” she asked her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Despite the embarrassment from Garcia, it’s even better than last year’s,” Florence told her, smiling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Florence looked at the stage and then around the table at everyone. It hadn’t even been two years since she was living in Seattle and basically alone. Now she was surrounded by all the people she loved and cared about, and they felt the same way about her. Through good times and bad, Florence wouldn’t ever have to be alone again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
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